Torn but United
by Extended-Wings09
Summary: A story which speaks of how cases of kidnapping, thieving and death can bring two very different people together. DISCONTINUED
1. Part One: Their paths meet

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**Chapter 1: Left Alone**

_Leaves rustling._

_Birds screeching; their wings fluttering madly as they tried to escape._

_The furious wind blowing madly as it stripped her of her strength and courage._

Hermione felt and heard these things only as she pelted through the forest, her heart racing, tears of fright and shock flooding down her dirty cheeks.

It was the fourth this week, and it was by far the biggest and the worst. The once proud forest housing millions of creatures now no longer stood with pride. Most of the trees were uprooted, bent in awkward angles, their leaves rotting horribly on the ground; the forest was dead.

Hermione struggled to run. Her breath came in short jagged pants as she slowed down to a stop, surveying her surroundings around her.

She was lost, wandless and friendless. She was alone in this god-forsaken forest.

The sudden sound of hurried footsteps reached her ears, and she snapped around, blindly hoping that it was a member of the Order, or someone she knew.

It was someone she knew alright, but she wished it was someone she did not hate.

At first she did not recognise him. His hair was matted with leaves, twigs and dirt, the blonde barely showing; his normally pale skin was likewise coated in brown and black, and his eyes, normally so haughty and arrogant looking was reduced to nothing but one of fear and anxiousness.

His grey eyes caught her own brown ones at the same moment.

"Malfoy?" She whispered.

---

The prime minister, for the first time, found himself staring hopefully at the dirty old portrait that hung permanently in his office. There have already been too many casualties, on both sides.

The number of 'natural' disasters that hit every country on the globe couldn't be counted with his fingers or toes. There were simply too many. And they were all too strong.

He paced around, not bothering to sit at his comfortable leather chair behind his desk. Even now, hours and hours later, he could still feel the trembles and shakes he had experienced before.

It was a nightmare.

Floods, hurricanes, tornados, wild storms, earthquakes, avalanches... all of these catastrophes had occurred almost simultaneously, and the people had barely enough time to recompose themselves before another disaster stroke. Millions of homes, buildings, forests have been destroyed. Mountains became valleys; villages buried; islands drowning in water, he found it hard to recognise even his own street.

The fire in his fireplace suddenly turned bright green, and a tall man gracefully dusted his robes as he stood in front of the prime minister.

Turning to look at the minister of magic, the prime minister recognised the same look on the other man's face; he saw it every morning in the mirror. It was etched with worry, sorrow, grief- not a flicker of hope remained on that weather beaten face.

"You requested a meeting?" The Minister of Magic asked, his voice uncharacteristically rough.

"Yes, I did. I have a proposal to make." The muggle gestured for the wizard to make himself at home, though he himself still paced on the thread-worn rug.

"A proposal, prime minister?"

"Yes. I think it is time for muggles to know about the existence of magic folk. I believe it is a time for unity. The forces of nature are fighting up against all of us. We need to help each other in order to survive." The Prime Minister knew that the other man was just as busy as he was, so he did not waste any time cutting the chase.

"You think it wise to spring this information on grieving, shocked muggles?" There was no doubt, the Minster of Magic thought him as crazy. He thought he was kneeling over from the pressure and the pain.

"Yes." The Prime Minister said firmly, "I do. If we cannot co-exist on this planet if everybody knows the existence of each other, we will crumble. I think both sides have faced enough pain, it is time we get to the bottom of this matter and unite."

The Minister of Magic sighed deeply. He saw the logic in his words, but still... how would the muggles react? How will the wizarding folk react? They needed to unite together to fight this through, but can magic folk live side by side peacefully with non-magic folk?

He nodded hesitantly, "I see your point. Have you discussed this with any of your colleagues?"

The Prime Minster shook his head. "I needed your permission first, and I need evidence."

The Minister of Magic stood up abruptly. "I will give this proposal serious consideration. I agree that it is time muggles and wizards unite. But I will need a vote on this."

The Prime Minister watched as the man stood into the fireplace and disappeared.

He hoped the wizarding community supported him, without each other, the human race- and all the other living, breathing creatures- will die.

That was certain.

---

Ron's red hair stuck up wildly as he thrashed in his brother's arms.

"LET ME GO!" he shouted, his face screwed up in worry and anger.

Percy held him strongly. "The wind is still raging out there, Ron. Hermione is a clever witch, she will be fine."

Ron struggled against his brother, his eyes welling up as he thought about Hermione, all alone, wandless and probably-he choked- buried under tonnes of earth.

Harry, on the other hand, was dealing with the shock of returning and finding that Hermione had disappeared by sitting on the hard wooden chair, biting his lip in frustration.

"We need to find her," Harry said suddenly, jumping to his feet. He couldn't bear the thought of them just sitting around when she needed them. He needed to do something. _Anything._

Ron stood still, breathing heavily as he tried to calm himself. "I'm going," he said roughly, brandishing his wand. Percy stood by and let him rush after Harry, he scribbled a note and rushed out after them, the door banging shut as he did.

---

"Don't you have a wand, mudblood?" Malfoy asked, the horrible name coming out of his mouth as easily as he would mutter a spell.

Hermione ignored him, still attempting to make the wood burn. She gripped the dry stick between her hands and tried to rub it against another to create sparks.

"Look, neither of us wants to be with each other, but at least answer me!" Coarse hands shook her rather violently. Hermione shook his hands off, tears threatening to flow again as she did so.

"Leave me alone." She whispered, no longer having the strength to retort back.

But Malfoy wouldn't give up.

"You're a mudblood, yet you don't know how to set up a fire? I thought you had to do this every day?" He drawled, obviously enjoying watching her in discomfort.

She leant back onto a trunk of a fallen tree, wishing that he would just go away and leave her alone. She cursed herself for being foolish, leaving her wand behind when she decided to take a walk through the forest, even though all these disasters were happening on a daily basis. She hated herself for being so stupid; she was _Hermione Granger,_ for god's sake. She was the brightest witch of her year.

At least, she thought she was.

She bit the inside of her cheek and tried to ignore the sounds of her stomach rumbling.

To her surprise, Malfoy threw a berry at her. She picked it up and looked at it carefully. She peeled its skin off and rubbed it against her skin. She didn't feel anything, but to be on the safe side she decided to wait ten minutes before rubbing the fruit against her lips.

"Eat it, it's not poisonous," Malfoy said, popping one of the red berries into his mouth. "I've been living on these for the past weeks."

Suddenly grateful at him, Hermione seized the berry and devoured it hungrily. It was sour, but edible, with a hint of sweetness.

Like Malfoy, she thought, I guess he _could _be nice.

A thought suddenly occurred to her, "why're you here?"

He turned to look at her. Hermione froze at the sight of his eyes. They were a pair of empty, cold and emotionless eyes. His muscles around his mouth tightened, as did his whole body.

"Butt out, Mudblood." He said harshly, before getting to his feet and walking away.

Hermione heard him thrash angrily, upsetting piles of leaves and snapping twigs as he wandered aimlessly around, stomping his feet in frustration.

She saw it happen before he heard it.

The ground trembled; the forest litter shuddered; Mounds of earth was falling seemingly from the sky. The first of the earth hit mere metres away from her. Hermione, shaking, sprang to her feet and looked for somewhere to hide.

It didn't take her long to find a perfect spot. There, lying almost out of side was a small cave. She darted towards it, dodging the earth as it fell.

Just as she reached it, she glanced back. To her horror, she saw a large piece of earth struck Malfoy in the head. Without a second's hesitation, Hermione abandoned all thoughts of leaving him to die and battled her way across.

"M-Malfoy!" She shouted, seeing him fall down, hard.

She shook him roughly, and when he didn't respond, she draped one of his arms around her shoulder and dragged him towards the cave.

Gods he is heavy! Hermione thought, panting with the effort. He better be grateful.

She dropped him, rather forcibly onto the damp ground. He stirred feebly.

He spoke the words Hermione was thinking without knowing it.

"We...need...to get ...to Hogwarts," he mumbled, his hands touching the wound on his forehand gently. Blood matted his fingers, but the wound wasn't big.

Hermione took off her cloak and ripped a small portion of it. She wrapped it around his head, to try and stop it from bleeding any further. "I know," she whispered, looking out to see the earth still raining down. The cave walls echoed the thunderous sounds, she shivered.

"Just so you know, we're even now, Mudblood." Malfoy said, returning to his former self.

Hermione gritted her teeth, "I know," she repeated. But this time her tone was forceful, and it showed her anger and frustration.

"Good, because we'll be staying the night together if this carries on." He said, his eyes showing no sign of amusement.

Hermione wasn't amused either. But what choice did they have?

"I know." She muttered.

It was going to be a nightmare.

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**So? Was it good? Bad? Atrocious?**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews!!**

**And I know, it's a bit confusing at what has happened, but I will explain all in the next chapter.**

**Please continue to read and REVIEW!  
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**Much appreciated, thank you!**

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**Chapter two**

_Thousands of pairs of eyes stared unblinkingly at him. The silence was eerie, but to him, it was the best sound ever._

_He smiled, his large owl-like eyes widening in excitement._

"_Let's give them hell on earth, shall we?"_

_The silence was immediately lost as the spectators deafened him with eruptions of cheers._

"_Then so be it, millions more will die tonight." _

_---_

"Well, what do you think?" his voice, normally loud and ringing, was now reduced to a quiet, rasping noise from the stress and pressure he faced.

The room was silent. Nobody so much as moved as all of the inhabitants furrowed their eyebrows and sat in deep thought. Both of the muggle and wizarding community rested in their hands now, if they made one wrong choice...

All of them seem to shudder involuntarily at that thought.

He tapped his feet impatiently. Time was precious, and though this decision required time to think through, they were taking too long. He could already feel hear and feel another earthquake coming.

One by one, the members all raised their heads, nodding to the man who stood in the front of the room. "We are ready," they all seemed to say, though they did not speak a word.

He saw the determination and the worry on their faces; they knew that the decision they made now would affect billions of both humans and creatures alike across the globe. But was it for the better or worse?

Only time could tell.

"Green light in favour, red against." He croaked, standing taller to see the results of the vote.

He counted the wandlights quickly. Fourteen were against the proposal. Fourteen voted for it.

He nodded, indicating the decision was made. "The Minister of Magic has the last say in this, as it is a draw. As it is at his request the proposal was to be given thought, thus he agrees with the muggle Prime Minister. The conclusion is this:

We will inform the muggles of our existence in two hours time."

---

That night, it was horrible.

But it wasn't due to the reasons she had feared.

Malfoy and Hermione, after hours and hours of heated discussions, screaming, yelling, tears, and a lot of pointing, they had agreed on two things.

One: Hermione was to stay on the left side, and Malfoy would stay on the right side of the cave. Nobody was to cross that line, or Hermione would get the beating of her life, and Malfoy would have to give her his cloak and all his food.

The one exception, they said grudgingly, was if there was an emergency.

But their definition of 'emergency' was very different; they both knew that very well. However, they had been too tired and hungry to argue any further, so they had drawn the line with a branch, and settled down for the night.

Not one word was exchanged afterwards.

The other thing they had agreed on was that Hermione was to call Malfoy another name. Malfoy refused to explain to her why she had to, but seeing as only he, between the two, had food, she had no choice but to keep her promise. Malfoy told her (actually, ordered her more like), that if she needed to speak his name ("though," he said, "it's best if you keep your mudblood mouth shut at all times.") she was to call him Scorpius.

She had snorted at that name, but did not protest. After all, the berries were in his possession.

Hermione's tired eyes flickered open. She couldn't sleep.

The cold seeped in from every crack and every hole in the cave. It burned her and left her shivering madly in the moonlit damp ground. The only covering she had aside from her clothes was a small pile of leaves, and they did next to nothing to help her keep warm.

It did not help that not a single animal sound could be heard from the forest.

Hermione had expected hear at least one chirp from a bird, or a scuffling sound as a squirrel darted about, but apart from the rustling of leaves, and the wind howling furiously in the background, she couldn't hear anything that indicated a living creature was near.

The wind continued to blow, sending hair-raising chills all over her. She gritted her teeth and refused to give in, but it proved to be hard. Her clothes clung to her, caked in mud and dirt. Her robes had gaping holes in it and her cloak was nothing but a ripped rag.

But as she slowly fell into a deep slumber, it became warmer and warmer. She could still hear the wind, and feel it...but it felt nice, comfortable and warm. She murmured quietly and shifted closer towards the source of heat. Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around the object radiating the warm breath.

Something finally clicked in her exhausted brain. Her eyes opened once more.

Hermione froze in horror.

"G-GET AWAY FROM ME!" She screamed, scrambling away as quickly as possible.

---

Something large blocked their way. Squinting, Harry pointed his wand at the figure.

"Move," he demanded, his tone icy. He did not have any time for this. Hermione needed help. Hermione needed them.

But the figure remained. As the three men walked closer, they saw that it was not one person who barred their way, but two.

Sudden light shone from their wands, Ron's eyes widened as he recognised the two.

"The Ministry has decided that everyone head to Hogwarts," Molly Weasley said, lowering her wand. There were dark circles around her eyes, and she was no longer the plump, cheerful Molly they knew, but a skinnier and grimmer version. She spoke with little emotion, as if she had forced all her feelings away and was left as nothing but a walking, talking machine.

Harry nodded, following her gesture and lowering his wand also. But then he stopped.

"Hermione's still out there."

Arthur, standing beside Molly gave a small choked gasp. "We looked for her in the forest, everywhere, but...w-we couldn't..."

His sentence died away, leaving nothing but hollowness as Ron and Harry digested this.

"NO!" Ron cried, flinging himself down at his father's robes.

"You guys didn't search properly! Hermione's still out there! She needs help! She's still alive!" He shouted, twisting Arthur's cloak in grief and in madness.

The older man leaned down and pulled him up, hugging him fiercely as his son sobbed on his shoulder. On normal occasions, Ron would have never dared to cry openly in front of his friends and family, but this was no normal event.

Hermione is dead, Harry thought, his own green eyes welling up as it finally sunk in. My best friend, dead.

They hadn't realised how much they needed her, but the knowledge of her never smiling and talking with them again dug deep holes in their chests. It was a wound no potion nor spell could ever heal, and Harry knew that neither time nor age would make it fade.

Unwillingly, both Ron and Harry remembered memories of Hermione with them. But strangely, none of them highlighted her good points. Ron remembered the way he felt annoyed at Hermione for being such a know-it-all and lecturing him about the way he was saying a charm. Harry remembered the betrayed feeling he had felt when he heard that Hermione had Professor McGonagall confiscate his Firebolt. Try as they both did, neither could dig up a memory where it wasn't when they were mad at her.

It scared them both.

Ron's sobs echoed around the destroyed block. Harry found himself sinking onto the ground, covering his face with his trembling hands. He had thought that Hermione, at least, wouldn't be the first to die. It was always Harry who was in that danger. Not Ron, and definitely not Hermione.

But... obviously fate had other plans.

It took them almost an hour for both of them to calm down and think straight. As Ron's parents guided them back to the Order's Headquarters, none of them spoke.

They desperately wanted the whole episode to be a lie, a nightmare, something that they could wake up from and would be able to see Hermione laughing again. They had decided that the journey to Hogwarts would be postponed until the day after next. Finding Hermione's body was their top priority no matter what.

They agreed on this all without speaking. Even Molly and Arthur understood their wishes by simply looking at their devastated faces.

Molly sank down onto an armchair watching as her husband half carried, half walked Ron and Harry to their bedrooms upstairs, with Percy trailing behind. She thought about the events that lead up to all of this.

Everything happened so suddenly. This never-ending nightmare sprang on them the least they had expected.

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**Aha! Yes, please wait until next chapter. Next chappie will be the events leading up to the first chapter, and also continues on from the Draco/Hermione scene. Please review!  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Same as always! Please Read and Review! Reviews are GREATLY appreciated, it makes me feel loved, lol.**

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**Chapter three:**

It had all been well before. After Voldemort was killed, they were allowed one year to rebuild the Hogwarts castle, they were given enough time to grieve and mourn for those who sacrificed themselves in the battle.

But scarcely a week after Voldemort's first death anniversary, disaster struck.

It had happened to Taiwan first, a giant, horrible flood that disfigured mountains, buried towns, torn apart families.

All the muggles and wizards simply assumed that it was just an unfortunate natural disaster, and nothing more. America sent over two planes of supplies as well as their condolences, and promptly forgot about the incident. China collected donations and gave millions of Taiwanese dollars to those in need, as well as temporary houses, but also waved their hand in dismissal and said solemnly that it was horrifying.

But everyone knew that flood was no normal disaster underneath.

Yes, Taiwan has had their fair share of natural disasters: the earthquake that shook the whole country and orphaned hundreds of children; they had droughts that caused their crops to wither and die; they had floods before, that ruined furniture and drowned buildings... but nothing on this scale.

It was the first sign of nature's rebellion.

The second struck America, where twenty three tornados suddenly appeared. It sucked houses, people, cars, buildings out of their comfort zone and tossed them violently and forcibly miles and miles away. This time, wizards were affected as well.

Two thousand muggles lost their lives. Another six hundred were missing. Fifty suffered life-long injuries.

Only ten wizards died, and two with major injuries. But compared to the size and numbers of wizard villages in that part of America, the proportion was more than the death toll the muggles had.

Even with so many casualties, people merely passed it as another unfortunate disaster.

But then, barely a week had passed when a traumatic tsunami struck the islands residing in the Pacific Ocean. Most of the islands were drowned in an instant. There were hardly any survivors.

Earthquakes trembled the whole of New Zealand. Mt. Cook became a large valley; the sky tower swayed and fell; big and small cities alike found their population suddenly smaller.

Scorching forest fires hit all over Australia, thousands suffered.

Hurricanes, earthquakes and crazed storms roamed around Britain and Asia.

The death toll rose steadily each day, the missing list lengthening every minute, hospital space shortening, as did available medical staff. They could no longer ignore all of this.

The Ministers of Magic from all around the globe meet urgently, but found that nobody could be blamed. Humans had been living off earth too many years, and the land was growing tired of their existence.

Humans polluted its water, its lands; they cut down precious trees, cleared forests, banished innocent creatures. They cared for nought but themselves, and now they were paying for their actions.

But, the Ministers had all agreed that dark magic was also at hand, for before these disasters struck these unfortunate countries, not an animal was in sight. All pets escaped, despite the fences, gates that stopped them earlier; livestock was seen rushing in herds on the streets, school children no longer saw seagulls as they normally did, not a living animal was in sight, not even a sparrow.

It seemed that the animals knew this disaster was happening, and had fled before they suffered.

The question posed now was: where did they escape to? How did they escape? How did they know?

Nobody could answer this.

---

On the other hand, the leaders of all the muggle countries gathered to discuss this growing issue too. Scientists and thousands more blamed it on global warming, reminding everybody to be eco-friendly before it was too late. "Nature always has a mechanism to deal with threats, and now humans have threatened the very land they lived on, thus we must pay," people proclaimed.

Close as the both communities were, neither of them guessed the truth.

On a secluded island, unknown to both worlds, trillions of animals met up, all lead by one person only. His existence had been wiped carefully before he planned these attacks, no living human knew about him; to the rest, he never existed. He was a mysterious man, a person who never stood out. He had the actions and face of someone you'll never glance at twice.

He was perfect for his role.

Now he sits, high and mighty on his chair, regarding the suffering as entertainment, laughing and wiping tears of mirth as they flowed down.

Ah, sweet revenge, he thought, his tone full with vengeance. Earth was at his bidding, and he intended to use it to destroy all of those who had scorned him, embarrassed him, and ignored him.

All humans, muggles and wizards alike were going to pay.

---

Hermione shook Malfoy by the shoulders, hard. She had ignored the rule about crossing the line, but surely this counted as an emergency?

Her eyes, still wide with fear, stayed frozen as she gazed at the...thing that stood before her. Urgently, she shook the sleeping man again.

"Uhm...what?" Malfoy sat up finally, his cold grey eyes flashing angrily for being woken up so abruptly.

Hermione raised a trembling finger at the beast that glowered down at them.

"That," she whispered.

"Holy _shit_." Malfoy cursed, scrambling to his feet and dragging Hermione behind him without thinking.

The beast was huge. It had brown and grey hair all over. Its eyes were yellow and large. Sharp, jagged teeth lined its gaping mouth. Menacing claws struck out from its paws.

It looked angry too.

Casting a furtive look behind her, Hermione noticed that it was no longer raining earth. She tugged on Malfoy's sleeve. "We should back out slowly," she whispered in his ear.

Malfoy gave the slightest of nods, and pushed her gently out as he walked backwards towards the exit. The beast surveyed them with unblinking eyes, but did not pounce nor attack.

It gave a final snort before pawing the ground like a horse, then turning and disappearing into the inky depths of the cave.

Both the humans held their breath, still backing away quietly, their eyes never leaving the interior of the cave.

Hermione gulped, "I t-think it's safe now, M-Scorpius," she murmured.

Malfoy exhaled loudly and dragged her deeper into the forest, trying to get further and further away from that _thing._ He did not understand why he protected Hermione, nor did he know why he was dragging her along, but he did know that for him to get to Hogwarts, he needed Hermione, wandless as she was.

"Ouch! Let go of me!" Hermione hissed, trying to shake his grip on her hand.

Malfoy let go as if he had touched something disgusting. "You just had to choose a shelter that a _thing_ lived in, didn't you?" He snapped.

Hermione's eyes flashed in anger at his words and tone. "Well at least I found somewhere, rather than falling onto the ground, helpless." She retorted, her hands on hips.

Even Malfoy knew better than to argue with her. He knew she saved his life back then, he also knew that if Hermione didn't wake him up, he'd had been turned into a late night snack by now. But still, being saved by a... mudblood, _that _hurt his pride.

He seethed in anger. A pureblood, saved by a mudblood... that was a major blow to his pride. And to make the matters worse, the mudblood was _Hermione Granger_, the know-it-all and best friend of noble Harry Potter and his sidekick, Ron Weasel.

"C'mon," he muttered, striding away, "We need to get to Hogwarts, it's the safest place..."

Hermione hesitated for a moment, before hurrying after him. Malfoy or not, he seemed to know a bit on finding food, and...didn't he just tried to protect her from the beast?

Both of them were each other's best chance of getting to Hogwarts alive.

---

The beast from the cave gave another snort, but this time, it sounded more like a scoff. It had followed the instructions carefully step by step given to it. Now it wanted to claim its award.

It gathered up its children and scraped their claws on the inside of the cave. The cave shuddered before a giant crack appeared, becoming larger and larger as the three beasts watched.

They all ambled in, like muggles would when taking the elevator, and the crack closed behind them.

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	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Idontownanythingexceptforsomecharactersandthestoryidea.

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**Thanks to all of you that reviewed-it really made my day!**

**mariababii xo: **Thank you for your review-I'm glad you like my story. Any suggestions? Criticism? Please continue to Read and Review!

**midnightsun506975:** Yup, I'm going to continue with this story and am fully prepared to continue to update...that is, if I get enough reviews (hint hint nudge nudge :P)

**4herprince:** I'm sorry if things are a bit murky and confusing at the mo, I will try hard to clarify things. Unfortunately, the idea of the marriage law between muggleborns and purebloods has never crossed my mind, though I do like the idea. However, I already have the entire story planned out...so maybe next story? Thanks for the suggestion and your reviewing-reviews and greatly appreciated!

**Swimnsail:** Heya, thanks very much for reviewing! I'm glad it sounds interesting so far!

**darthfiredragon:** Thanks for being one of the first to review! I was ecstatic when I received the email!

** voldyismyfather**: I'm glad you love this story! Thanks very much for being the first to review, like I said, reviews are what keeps me writing.

**Same ol' message: Please continue to read and review!**

**And enough with the dilly dallying-on with the story!**

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**Chapter 4**

_He surveyed his weapons with an elegance that did not suit his large figure._

_His weapons –he would never consider them as his army- gazed solemnly up at him. All eyes were unblinking, and were empty of doubt._

_They were at his bidding, and best of all-they _chose_ to._

_The plans lay in front of him, unfurling and flapping slightly in the tropical breeze. As each step was read out loud, and repeated twice, he looked around at his audience with a fierce glare, as if to determine whether they were worthy of his trust or not._

_"Step one: Force Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger together, and make them depend on each other as they travel to Hogwarts." His voice was slippery, and surprisingly pleasant to listen to._

_That step was vital in his plans. The two eighteen year olds held the key to his successful revenge._

_It was time for step two._

_---  
_

The Prime Minster and the Minster of Magic readied themselves in front of the camera. It was going to be broadcasted live, and they had a limit of five minutes.

Five short minutes to convince the entire muggle population that magic folk existed.

"Five...Four...Three...Two...One!" Someone shouted.

The two Ministers drew a deep breath, wished each other luck and smiled brightly at the cameras.

"I have here, standing beside me, the Minister of Magic..."

---

"Hermione!"

Even in the silent forest, with the wind not blowing anymore, their voices sounded so small and weak.

And seemed so insignificant.

Harry and Ron tried again, levitating heavy trees off the ground and calling frantically for their friend, hanging onto the last thread of hope that remained.

They heard nothing.

"Harry!" Ron shouted suddenly, minutes later. "Come look! A cave!"

Harry hurried after his best friend, and sure enough, there was a cave.

They peered into it, and immediately spotted Hermione's ragged cloak on the ground.

Ron seized it up. "Hermione was here!" he cried happily, "she's alive!"

But Harry couldn't ignore the feeling that something was wrong...

He gestured for Ron to follow him, and they both headed further and further into the cave. They thought Hermione might have headed deeper to avoid more trees and earth from falling on her.

It was Harry who saw it first.

Blood...bones... horrid things lay littered on the ground. One bone in particular looked vaguely...human.

Harry bent down, much to Ron's horror, who had backed away. He picked up something from amidst the remains of a beast's dinner.

It was a lock of brown hair.

They both stared at it, recognising the shade, the texture, of which seemed so familiar.

The last thread of hope- the one thing they had held so desperately on to- snapped.

---

The sun was rising at last. Hermione could feel the warmth on her back as she walked briskly alongside Malfoy. Though it made the features of the dead forest sharper, and brought reality into focus, it was nevertheless welcoming to them. It made everything more cheerful, despite the woody corpses that barred their way.

They had been walking for three hours now, and she desperately needed to pee.

She had been holding off toilet breaks until the last possible moment, knowing that she'll wet her frayed robes if she didn't go now.

"I need to pee," She told the silent man beside her. He gave a small nonchalant shrug of his shoulders and walked away from her, heading into an area where there were more trees and other forest limbs to give her cover.

She kept her eyes constantly alert, gazing around the area for any giveaway signs that he might be watching. But she didn't see nor hear any movement, this relieved her.

At least he's not a pervert, Hermione thought, squatting down.

Malfoy tactfully (something Hermione thought he wasn't capable of) allowed her a few minutes before walking back. He did not give any inclination at her existence, and merely continued their journey.

They hadn't spoken (save for Hermione's plea earlier) during the hours they travelled together. Neither of them made eye contact with each other, and they did not acknowledge each other nor their companionship. It looked like it seemed a coincidence that they were walking together.

And a coincidence it is, Hermione mused. Of all people she had to travel with in the midst of all these natural disasters was Draco Malfoy, the boy who bullied her all through school. She shivered at this, and wondered whether the journey would be a more pleasant one if Harry or Ron took Malfoy's place.

"If you walked faster, Granger, you won't be so cold," Malfoy spoke suddenly, mistaking the shiver for her being cold.

"I'm not cold," Even to her own ears, the statement seemed pitiful. It didn't help her voice was scratchy from the lack of talking. But she sped up anyway; Malfoy had gone from walking alongside her to a few metres ahead.

He snorted, but waited until she caught up before continuing.

Hermione took this as an invitation to start conversing. Even if it her companion _was_ Malfoy, she couldn't stand two people travelling for hours without speaking civilly.

"Do you know which direction Hogwarts is?" Hermione had simply followed Malfoy as he walked confidently (she hoped, anyway) away before. She had no idea where they were, and where Hogwarts was.

"Yes. But I'm making a detour." He spoke with resignation, as if he was too tired to answer. But his long legs still strode along rather fast, despite the exhaustion in his voice.

"A detour," Hermione said appalled, "We must get to Hogwarts as quickly as possible!"

He sighed and stopped abruptly. "There is no _we_ in this, Granger, it just so happens we're heading in the same direction. So you either follow me and make the detour, or sod off!"

Hermione stopped too at his words. "You know I don't know which direction Hogwarts is," she said rather quietly, "you know I don't have a wand."

He shrugged but did not reply. He picked up his pace and headed further into the forest, at least, that was what Hermione saw. She hurried along too.

"Where are we detouring to?"

"The nearest wizard village."

Hermione nodded, though Malfoy was ahead of her and could not see.

"I don't have any money, you don't suppose you can lend me some?" She asked. Hermione didn't have a vault in Gringotts; she always converted enough muggle cash when buying things. She had been in so much hurry before she didn't along bring anything.

"Like I said before, there is no _we._ I'm not lending you anything."

"You gave me that berry before, so surely a couple of sickles isn't much?"

"Your stomach was making horrible noises, I was disturbed at how loud a mudblood's stomach could be."

It was Hermione's turn to snort. They both knew Malfoy's debate was weak.

"Well I'm going to need a wand. I expect that is the reason why you're making the detour? To buy a wand?"

Malfoy opened his mouth to disagree with her, but stopped. "Yes," he said nodding, "yes, that's why I'm making the detour, to buy us a wand." He seemed to be convincing himself, and it didn't seem much of an answer to Hermione, but she didn't press any further.

"Did I hear you say _us,_ M-Scorpius? I thought you considered me and you as a separate unit?"

"Oh shut _up,_ Granger, I'm tired, hungry, cold and I've got _you _as a companion. Just shut your trap won't you? You're giving me a bloody headache." He snapped back.

She bit on her lip but said nothing. He was, after all, her ticket to getting to Hogwarts safely.

They continued to walk until the sun was high in the sky. The scorching sun beat down on both their backs as they warily plodded forward. Sweat glistened on their foreheads and their dirty clothes were soaked through. The forest, with all its trees lying on the ground, did not shelter them from the continuous scorches of the sun.

They finally reached a body of water some hours later, both of them so thirsty, and their throats so dry, they had to force themselves not to gulp down the water.

One thing Hermione had learned from camping with her parents that water had to be drunk with the utmost care. She stopped Malfoy from literally placing his head into the water and walked about ten metres upstream for any rotting corpses, or weird algae polluting the water. There was none.

Finally, after fifteen minutes, she gave Malfoy the 'go for it' sign. They both scooped up handfuls of water and drank greedily, quenching their thirst. As Hermione felt the first of the water trickle down her throat, she felt her mind become clearer, and her mood lighten as she drank more and more.

Malfoy, who was about three metres downstream, likewise felt blissful as he drank the sweet water. He had mentally slapped himself when Hermione stopped him from drinking before. He had been living in the wild for nearly four weeks now, and he should know better than that Granger.

They drank their fill and continued on, both of them not speaking. The silence that stretched between them had changed from one of sullenness to a comfortable one. Though neither of them would admit they were friends, they no longer acknowledged each other as arch enemies.

Malfoy broke the silence a few more hours later, after three toilet breaks. They had reached the outer ring of the forest; trees were thinning and the ground was steeping downhill slightly.

"You need to stay in the forest. I'm going into the village by myself." He ordered her.

Hermione huffed angrily at his tone. "I'm going with you. I need new robes, proper food, and a wand. I'm going."

He shrugged, "fine. But stay at least ten metres away from me. I don't want anyone associating me with you." To Hermione's surprise, he gave up pretty quickly. It may have been that he knew her well enough to not argue with her.

"Deal. Let's meet up here in two hours time." Hermione said, starting down towards the quiet village.

Malfoy stopped her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "No, meet at nightfall, in four hours time. If another disaster strikes, we'll meet at the clearing we passed through half an hour ago."

She nodded and walked away. Malfoy surprised her once more by following her and jogging a little to catch up. "I thought you said to stay ten metres away?" She asked accusingly.

He rolled his eyes, "I meant in the village, Granger, Merlin knows where you're wander off to. You have the worst sense of direction I know."

Hermione sulked for the duration of the time he walked with her. Yes, she admitted, she did have a terrible sense of direction, but he had _no right_ to rub it in her face. She stomped on; unaware that Malfoy's thoughts were preoccupied with issues that had nothing to do with their journey.

He had information about these natural disasters, and he planned to tell a messenger he'd arranged to meet one hour later. The Ministry of Magic must be informed of this, he decided.

It was too bad Granger had come along and ruined his plans of covertly meeting the messenger. Draco had wanted nobody to know that he was the informant, especially since the receiver was the Ministry. He had no credibility, and had even less evidence. But he knew who was behind all of these so-called 'natural' disasters. Being a Malfoy, in this case, was a con.

His father had planned that Draco was to collect evidence and information about the demanding yet mysterious issue. The Malfoy household all knew the disasters were of Dark Magic and not natural. Draco was sent to play the hero, to once again bring pride to the Malfoy name. The messenger was a loyal person of the Malfoys, and was also trusted by the Ministry. After the culprit was caught, the messenger would wrap things up and give Draco Malfoy the credit.

And then, Draco Malfoy could sign his name with pride. He longer had to hide his identity, calling himself 'Scorpius' and having to live off those horrid sour berries.

Now with Hermione Granger in the picture...

Granger was a hindrance to this meeting; he was also _supposed _to be travelling alone, and in secret. (He refused to ignore the fact he was the one who joined her, watching while she attempted to make fire.)

His father's plans were in ruins, and all because of that know-it-all.

Little did he know, the man who was behind it all was pushing the pieces on the board. Everything up to now had been foretold by him.

For the man living peacefully on that secluded tropical island of his, the plan was going nicely.

* * *

**-points at the review button- There! I'm being subtle!:P**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sorry I haven't updated in a while- I have exams coming up. This means that I won't be updating for at least two weeks unfortunately.**

**However, please continue to read and REVIEW!**

**Thanks!**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters and world does not belong to me, but a girl can dream right?**

* * *

**Chapter 5**

_"Step two is in place?" His voice rang clearly in the gloom. The sun had long set, but the moon had yet to rise. A chilly breeze flitted around him and his audience, though they seemed not to feel it._

_"Yessss." A snake hissed, wounding itself around the trunk of a palm tree. "Massterss plan isss not going to failsssss."_

_He nodded, but his face remained forever etched with a frown. He waved them away with one hand; the meeting was over. _

_"Let's hope my chosen ones don't fail me." He murmured._

_From behind him, thousands of animals disappeared. The man knew that in a few more minutes, a disaster would strike, but this time, it would have an aim-and a purpose._

_The yet untouched wizard village lying east to the Great Forest, _Optium Lucidus_was about to experience their first hurricane._

_He couldn't wait._

**_---_**

The short broadcast featuring Britain's Prime Minister and the Minister of Magic was seen by trillions around the globe. Many had gathered specially in the town square or even flocked to electronic stores to watch.

Within the first thirty seconds, more than half of them left, muttering about hoaxes and people wasting time.

However, those who stayed after the first minute, found themselves sitting down and listening to the whole broadcast. They were wondrously awarded for their loyalty and trust: the Minister of Magic performed a number of spells and charms that everyone knew couldn't be due to special effects.

Of the trillions that came to watch, only several million believed in the two men.

But to the weary, aging men, that was enough. Wizards and witches around the world no longer had to hide their identity. At the signal of a patronus (the Minister's was a great stallion), billions of magic folk, muggle-borns and pure bloods alike, cast off their heavy coats and revealed their cloaks and robes, along with their wands, which they brandished.

Not a single pure-blood seemed disgusted about the turn of events; everybody knew the situation was grave. Anybody who still scorned the muggle-borns and muggles were in turn frowned upon, and had whatever status they had revoked. Now was not the time for discrimination.

Muggles stood with mouths agape as they watched the sudden transformation. All of them froze, too stunned to move. It seemed as if a time spell was cast over Earth as muggles and wizards faced each other, both not moving a muscle.

In a shopping mall in a bustling city of New Zealand, a five-year old muggle made her first move. Unknowingly, her action was broadcast across the world, her image taking over the two men. She extended her arms wide, and gave a random witch a huge hug, accompanied with an ear-splitting squeal.

The witch, a forty year old, smiled and returned the gesture with double the affection.

Bystanders and people who watched the screens smiled involuntarily, but felt a bit ashamed. They were upstaged by a five year old. A few adults and teenagers, though hesitant at first, also extended friendly hands to the others. Slowly, very slowly, the tension broke between the two communities.

But it wasn't easy.

Hundreds of muggles refused outright to accept these peculiar magic folk. They held bats and golf clubs, warning those that neared them to beware. For the billions that had left before the five minutes was up simply ran off, herding their children as they did so.

It was going to be a long process, but with more than five million muggles on the same side as the wizards, it was enough.

They knew they had survive these disasters, no matter what. It didn't matter if they were muggles, squibs, muggle-borns, pure-bloods or even half-bloods, all of them lived on the same land and all of them wanted to live.

_This _was the message the two Ministers wanted to get across.

---

The doorbell clang loudly as Hermione gently pushed the door open.

People inside snapped their heads up at the newcomer, visitors didn't come often to this small and dull village.

Immediately, the owner ran forward hurriedly, wiping his hands on his robes as he did so. "What can I get you, miss?"

Hermione, slightly taken back by the attention, managed to only stammer. "I-uh..w-want-"

"This is a _wand_ shop, Jack, why else would she come here?" A portly woman, who looked to be his wife retorted from where she sack, sipping a cup of herbal tea.

The owner flushed, "Oh...right. So which is your wand arm, miss er-?"

"Gra-Grant, er- right, my wand arm that is." Hermione replied, she didn't know why, but she felt the need to mask her true identity. Malfoy had grudgingly given her money to buy a wand, muttering that she probably knew more spells and charms than he did.

Damn right, Hermione though, jiggling the coins in her hand.

The owner had retreated into the back room and came out holding a stack of boxes.

He puffed a little and set them down gingerly on the counter. He drew a wand from the topmost box.

"Here- twelve inches, dragon heartstring, willow, rather durable but flexible."

Hermione took the wand and gave it a wave. She could feel from just waving it around that this wand wasn't for her. She gave a small smile and returned the wand back to him.

The owner's face dropped a bit. "Oh...well let's try something else...here. Eleven and nine inches, phoenix feather."

The moment Hermione took the wand, she knew it had picked her. It simply felt...well it felt it belonged to her. It seemed even more compatible with her than her other wand. The owner, slightly relieved that his second choice was right, beamed.

"That's thirteen sickles," he said, placing the wand tenderly back into its box.

Hermione stared. Ollivanders had her pay fourteen _Galleons._

"Oh! Er, here-Thirteen sickles." She counted them out on her palm and passed them over. Jack the owner passed her the wand and offered her a butterbeer.

"Please do sit-we don't get many visitors to this village, and we are rather cut off. No Floo Network is connected to here, and most of us don't know anyone elsewhere."

Hermione eyed the window and saw the sun was still high up in the sky. "Alright," she said, "But not too long, I've got to get myself a new set of robes-these ones are awfully dirty and tatted."

Jack's wife bustled over, looking Hermione up and down. "Tell you what, my daughter is around the same size as you, she works as a robe designer and has plenty of robes lying around. She'd give you a couple for free."

"Oh, but I couldn't-!" Hermione protested, these villagers were awfully nice, and she felt a bit guilty lying to them about her identity.

"I insist. My daughter's been complaining about her closet space for a while now. Let's come around upstairs shall we?" The woman bounded up the wooden stairs with surprising enthusiasm. Hermione trailed behind her, still a bit hesitant.

Jack's wife (whose name was Jane) lead her into a small cluttered room that housed a small single bed, a dressing table, and about a gazillion robes and dress robes lying everywhere. Hermione had to brace herself against the wall as she manoeuvred her way across to the closet, with the robes swishing about at her feet, she nearly tripped up more than twice.

Jane swung the heavy closet door open and shrieked as another tonne of clothes tumbled out. Hermione used her new wand to levitate the pile before they fell on top of them.

Jane gave a small smile. "Thank you-now you see why I'm desperate for someone to take these robes away?"

"Yes, er 'cuse me for asking, but how does your daughter cope with all these?" Hermione asked, gesturing around them.

"That's the thing, she doesn't cope. She moved into the guest bedroom." Jane bent down and picked up a dark green robe. "Try this on-as a traveller you probably don't want anything too fancy or too bright."

The woman bustled about, picking more and more robes off the ground and closet until Hermione could barely see over the towering pile of robes she had in her arms.

One by one, Hermione tried them on. To her surprise, all of them fitted her perfectly; it was as if they were specially made for her. She stood admiring herself in a dark grey one in front of the full length mirror, she had to admit, Jane's daughter had a great designer style.

---

Draco stood stupidly at the foot of the road. He swung his head this way and that, trying in vain to remember which way it was to the inn. His father had drawn him a crude map in the dirt with a stick, and made him try and memorise it in less than ten seconds before wiping it away hastily. He remembered that he was supposed to turn left at the first fork, but the map clearly indicated that he was to walk straight after that and the inn would be to his left.

Instead of a nice, straight road, Draco faced two possible choices: left or right.

Taking his chances, Draco counted the number of pebbles at his feet. If there was an odd number, he'd take the left road, if it had an even number, then he'll walk towards his right.

"Thirteen....sixteen....nineteen-left it is." He muttered.

He made the right decision. Within ten minutes, he saw the sign (or rather, tripped on it). The great ancient sign was lying on the ground, and read "Galloping Gargoyles." Draco walked up the rotting wooden steps and pushed open the dusty door cautiously.

It was dark inside. Dusty too. Draco could barely make out where the tables and seats were.

"Er-hello?" He asked, aware his voice echoed slightly in the small dingy room.

Nobody answered, Draco frowned, the messenger was supposed to be waiting for him, not the other way around.

After five minutes, his patience thinned and he turned towards the door.

Suddenly a hand clamped him on his shoulder. Draco instinctively grabbed the hand and flipped them over, forcing them-whoever it was- to gasp and splutter as they lay helpless on the wooden boards.

"M-Mister Malfoy!" The man gasped, clawing at the younger man's hands. Draco immediately loosened his grasp on his collar, but did not let go.

"Who are you?" Draco asked, his voice cold.

"H-Harold Y-Yolkhurt." The man stammered. Draco surveyed him for a full minute before releasing him.

" 'Curiosity killed the cat.'" Draco said. His tone implied that it was a question to be answered.

" 'Aye, but satisfaction brought it back.' " Mr. Yolkhurt replied without hesitation.

Draco's face, originally tense, relaxed slightly. "You're late." He said, stepping back and collapsing onto a stool.

"I was held up-met some rather _annoying _people on my way here." The man followed suit and sat beside Draco. He no longer sounded nervous or frightened; he'd discarded his mask when he revealed himself to Draco Malfoy. "But I must admit, they won't be boasting about their dashing looks anymore, not after I've been through them." Yolkhurt's upper lip curled slightly.

Draco looked everything but amused. "You fought people, and let them know of your existence. You let people saw you coming into this village." It was evident he was angry, the meeting was already disrupted by Hermione knowing he had been travelling alone for weeks, and now this. His father's plan was nearly in ruins.

"I have to leave soon," Draco said, "Get the message to the Ministry. They need to know who's behind this." He took the wand Yolkhurt offered and drew out a wispy silvery substance from his head. He conjured up a small vial and guided the memory inside before corking it and handing both the wand and the vial to the man's outstretched hand.

"Yes. I will leave now." The man nodded briefly and apparated with a small _crack_. Draco stared at the empty seat before giving a sharp jerk and sliding off the stool.

The meeting, though brief and was later than expected, still took place without any other mishaps. Harold Yolkhurt had the vial containing his memory, and was already on his way to the Ministry.

Nothing could go wrong.

Little did he know, millions of 'missing' animals were heading this way, prepared to bring the small peaceful wizard village a bit of...chaos.

---

Harry and Ron glumly flooed to the Burrow. They had found evidence that Hermione was dead, and worse still, they had no body to bury because some foul monster had devoured her and turned her into food. It was no surprise that they both came bursting out the fireplace looking exhausted and looking years older.

Molly tried very hard to lighten the atmosphere by hugging them both and chattering away about nonsense, but not even the mention of Ginny getting an Outstanding in Potions cheered them up.

At last, after half a measly bowl of soup, Ron pushed it away, the spoon clattering loudly onto the table. "Sorry mum, soup's great and all, but I...gotta go upstairs... Long trip tomorrow, going to Hogwarts and all..."

Harry too, got up from the table, the wooden chair scraping the ground as he did so. "Mrs Weasley, I agree with Ron. I can't eat-your soup was good- but, it's just-"

"I know boys, go up to bed, I'll clean this up." Molly whisked out her battered wand and sent the two bowls to the sink. Harry and Ron, without so much as a glance at each other, trooped up the stairs and into Ron's bedroom.

As they both climbed into their beds, muttering a "'night," to each other, they couldn't help but feel guilty and responsible for Hermione's death. If they hadn't seen Ginny and Luna off at the platform, and left Hermione alone at the Headquarters (she was down with a cold), none of this would have happened. Floods, earthquakes-heck, even hurricanes they could handle, but left alone in Hermione's absence... life would never be the same again.

They both found it hard to go to sleep, though Ron usually started snoring the moment his head hit the pillow. Even as the sun streaked in from the gap between the curtains, it had never felt so dark and cold before.

Harry's digital watched beeped and the luminous green numbers switched from 12:59 to 1:00pm.

---

Harold Yolkhurt apparated outside the Ministry with a huge smirk on his face. Draco Malfoy was cold, stern and arrogant-every bit the Malfoy he was. However, he still couldn't match his father. Yolkhurt had been nervous and frightened at first, afraid that his cover would be broken the second the boy laid his eyes on him.

Even the boy was a Malfoy, he was still only eighteen. Not a child anymore, but not yet an adult.

Draco Malfoy did not notice that there was supposed to be a mole beside his left eye. He was stupid and unobservant; if it was his father Yolkhurt was meeting, he'd been killed the first time they looked at each other.

His features dissolved slowly, the portly figure slimmed down to a lean, furry body. His face lengthened; his nose became longer and his teeth grew. A tail sprouted, wagging madly about. His eyes-before it was a cool shade of blue, now it was a pair of menacing yellow darting eyes.

The modified version of the Polyjuice potion worked perfectly. For a few short hours, the wolf was able to walk and talk like a human. It was a wonderful experience. The master was right in choosing him. Draco Malfoy didn't suspect a thing.

The wolf bounded away, turning its head and body away from the Ministry, the precious vial held gingerly between its teeth as it dashed further and further away.

The master awaited him. Him and the vial. Step two of the plan was complete, and step three was already in place.

The wolf gave an excited sniff as it turned sharply and disappeared.


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry for the long wait! I had practice exams (yep, means in a few weeks I'll have to force myself to study-gulp!). Anywho, here's the next chapter!**

**Disclaimers- I think I've forgotten this until now, lol. Everything Harry Potter related belongs to JK Rowling. But the story idea and plot belongs to me.**

**Please continue to review! Thanks very much!**

* * *

**Chapter 6**

Hermione, sitting on a stool and wearing her new robes, felt the tremors of a landslide and earthquake before the others did. At first she dismissed the shaking as her stool being short legged, but as it became more violent she realised trouble was coming.

"Is it me, or is it shaking?" She asked. Heads swivelled around to stare at her. Then, slowly one by one, the others in the wand shop felt it too. One man even feet off his stool, clambering to his feet with his round face flushed with embarrassment.

"Holy- it's an earthquake!" Someone-Hermione suspected a woman from the pitch- screamed. Everybody jumped to their feet and started panicking, jumping around like headless chickens. The only person who seemed sane was Hermione, who was trying to calm everybody down and formulate an emergency procedure.

"Everyone, please don't- don't panic!" She cried over the screams, swearing and shrieks. She ducked as someone accidentally swung a whole tray of butterbeer bottles across the room. She stumbled, being pushed and pulled amidst the confusion. Hermione was usually a patient person, but under these circumstances, where tufts of her hair was being tugged out, enough was enough.

"SHUT UP YOU IDIOTIC MORONS!" She screamed, sending sparks from her new wand for effect. It worked. Everyone stopped what they were doing (screaming and clutching to one another) and looked at her.

"Thank you. Now- before this turns worse, is there a clearing- a place where there are no buildings or trees?" Hermione directed this question to Jane, who besides herself seemed the least flustered by the turn of events.

"Er-" Jane struggled to find an area that matched the description. Then she brightened. "Yes- the children's play space, it's away from the village, a bit far though, near the Galloping Gargoyle."

Hermione nodded, "let's go there at once, experience tells me the shakes are just the beginning of a huge earthquake." She grabbed her bag (supplied by Jane, and in it was food, clothes, water and other necessities) and advised that others take non-perishable food and drinks too. Five minutes later, a whole herd of people stormed down the dusty roads, heading towards a place where they wouldn't be crushed.

* * *

Draco slid off the boulder he was temporarily resting on. An earthquake was coming, he could see it from the way the stones and pebbles bounced on the ground. He thought about heading into the village and buying a wand, but then remembered that he didn't have any money left. Besides, it would be stupid to head into an area full of buildings and people when a disaster was coming.

He remembered the large clearing behind the inn, and stretched out his sore body before heading towards it. Nightfall was in mere minutes, and now that he thought about it, the clearing he had told to meet up wasn't a good place to be when trees were likely to fall.

"Granger's a smart witch," he muttered, "She's not stupid enough to head into the clearing at a time like this."

He was right, of course, but Hermione had underestimated _him_. She thought he was an idiotic that would walk right under a tree. Hermione, while eyeing the piece of parchment Jane had given her, apparated into the forest, thinking that he might be waiting for her already.

The giant trees swayed dangerously overhead as she called out his name again and again.

"MALFOY!" She yelled, her wand emitting a bright green glow. "Merlin's beard, where is he? He's my only hope of getting to Hogwarts!"

She tripped over a tree root, muttering every four-letter muggle swear word that she knew. She cursed the forest, Malfoy, the disaster that was coming, Malfoy and the cut she received from falling on a sharp stick.

"MALFOY! IT'S NOT FUNNY!" She screamed, her brown bushy hair flaming out, making her look like a mad woman. Which, she supposed, she was. She was so mad, she was surprised steam wasn't blowing out of her ears.

Then the earthquake struck. Hermione was thrown across the clearing as a tree crashed into her. She cast a cushioning spell and shook her dizzy head before resuming the search. Clutching her arm, which was bent at a strange angle, she strengthened the light of her wand.

A groan echoed down from above; the trees swayed dangerously, ready to fall. Crashes and screams could be heard coming from the village. Buildings fell; the debris carried over into the forest by the strong wind. Hermione was struck on the forehead by something that looked suspiciously like a butterbeer bottle.

Blood gushing from her forehead, and cuts and bruises forming on her body every time something rushed at her, Hermione felt more and more frustrated. Where was that arrogant ferret? He wasn't as low as hiding from her was he?

Actually, correction, he probably was. Hermione thought. She had known Malfoy for years, and hiding and laughing when she was stupidly looking for him was something he would do.

Giving up the search, Hermione looked around blankly. Trees lay across everywhere she turned her head, leaves were torn from the branches and were scattered everywhere, branches and twigs huddled in piles.

Which way to the village?

Crap, Hermione bit her lip. She was lost.

* * *

The fire in the fireplace glowed emerald green and a tall, disheveled figure stumbled as they straightened and strode into the large comfortable room.

The room, which had been full of noise and excitement immediately quieted as everybody saw who it was that had arrived so abruptly into their common room.

In almost identical movements, the Gryffindor students gazed up at the man's forehead.

There was no doubt about it. Harry Potter- and Ron Weasley who had just popped out- was at Hogwarts.

Ron blinked at the pairs of eyes looking at them, feeling just a bit self-conscious.

"Ah, so..." he glanced at Harry, who was dusting soot from his robes, "Got a Chocolate Frog you could spare?"

There was a flurry of movement. And about twenty students fought to get to him first, each holding a Chocolate Frog.

Ron took all of them, grinning. "Thanks, a guy can't have too many frogs. Is McGonagall in the Headmistress office by any chance? Lovely woman she is."

Harry shot him a warning look. "They remind you of Dobby don't they? Don't push it Ron."

Ron shrugged. Tearing a packet open and munching on a Frog. "Alwright," he mumbled, spraying the girl in front of him of chocolate bits. "Forry!"

The two men (or one man and immature boy) crossed the room and climbed through the portrait hole.

Hogwarts was the only safe place to be at the moment. So for the meantime, they decided to stay here until the disasters pass and they can rebuild the Burrow and the Headquarters.

About a thousand wizards and witches from around Britain thought the same too. They were all camping out in the Great Hall.

* * *

  
The yells and shouts Draco had heard earlier increased in volume as the huddle of villagers came closer and closer towards him. A few of the villagers had conjured up stretchers and on them were injured people, all groaning while healers flustered about, struggling to mend everyone while dodging the flying debris themselves.

Draco's first thought was to run- nobody apart from the messenger was to know he was here. But looking at the desperate but determined looks on each of their faces, he relented. Their looks mirrored his and his family's exactly when the stupid hoard of animals barged in and took them away several weeks ago.

A small girl caught his eye. She was shivering and wearing nothing but a ragged old robe that hung loosely on her too thin figure. There were many villagers that looked that way, but the one thing that made him pay close attention to her was the way she was struggling against a large man.

"Rita-it's dangerous! Stay here! Oof!" The man stumbled back as the girl lashed out fiercely, her fist landing squarely between his eyes.

"Lemme go! M-my mummy's back there! She needs me!" Rita screamed, as the man regained his composure and held onto her. The man's own face was streaked with tears, but through his sorrow, there was a firm determination that shone through. Draco could tell this was the face of a man who had lost something precious, and was determined not to let what was left get stolen as well.

Draco suddenly felt a surge of emotion for the father and daughter. His Slytherin friends might have guffawed at his display of affections, but Draco had experienced too many things to understand the depth of how much people were willing to give up for what was precious to them. He himself several years ago would have smirked at the pitiful couple, but Draco had changed when the Dark Lord sat at the head of his dining table in Malfoy Manor.

The villagers –a terrifying small crowd of people in proportion to the village- stiffened as buildings came tearing down in the distance. All of them would have lost at least one dear person, be it family or friend. Draco found himself standing awkwardly amoung these suffering people, unsure of what to do, and what to say.

"Hang on-" His head snapped up as he gazed around. His shoulders sagged slightly as he recognised nobody. There was no sign of a bushy brown haired girl, no bossy know-it-alls giving directions and advice. Hermione wasn't here.

He lifted his eyes and trained them on the collapsing village. Somewhere under all those rotting wood pieces, the ruined furniture, the piles of useless debris, somewhere in that destroyed village, Granger was there, helpless and probably dead.

Draco Malfoy was surprised at how little he felt as this fact came flooding into his mind. His travel companion for a couple of days was now dying or dead, but he felt no sorrow, no remorse for how he treated her. His only consolidation was that he didn't feel glad. He felt guilty.

"Excuse me, are you looking for Ms. Grant?" A woman shorter than him tugged on his sleeve, which tore when she removed her hand.

"Oh- sorry dear, I didn't mean to- here." The woman whisked out her wand and mended it, cleaning his robe and cloak as well while she was at it.

Draco was confused. Who was Ms. Grant?

"Er no. But I'm looking for-" He stopped. He had told Hermione to call him by his alias name. She must've realised there was a reason for this and adopted her own.

"Actually, yes. Where is, er, Ms Grant?" His voice was hoarse from the hours of standing in silence.

"She left to go into the forest, she said something about meeting someone." The woman wringed her hands with worry. "I do hope she's okay. The outer portion of the forest is nearly destroyed. The earthquake made lots of trees fall- I'm so worried."

Draco cursed the girl for her idiocy. He had obviously over estimated her intelligence. The woman was startled by his use of language. "Sorry," he apologized, "I just thought she had more common sense than to charge into a forest while an earthquake was coming."

"So did I. I told her not to go, that whomever that she was meeting was smart enough to find someplace safer but- Er, sir? Young man? Where are you going?" The woman stared at Malfoy's retreating back.

He didn't answer, instead he dashed down the road into the heart of the village.


	7. Part two: Series of Mysteries

**A/N: Sorry I haven't been updating. It's because of exams. If truth be told, I was procastinating on studying and chose to write instead! My exams are in a week. Then I'm off overseas on holiday. I'll try to add more chapters before then.**

**Please enjoy reading this and REVIEW!

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**

**Chapter seven**

_Light suddenly illuminated the cold stone floor. He looked up, wincing as his eyes struggled to adjust. The door, only accessible on the outside, had slid open, and a reptilian body slithered inside. Beside him, shivering in the damp and cold conditions, a fragile woman tensed as the snake glared at them with its yellow unblinking eyes. _

"_Food for the guestss..." The snake flicked its tail lazily, and a paper bag barely half full was thrown into the room, its contents spilled everywhere. The snake hissed with mock politeness, "so sorry...guestss..."_

_The man laid a comforting hand on his wife's shoulder as she began to sob quietly. The snake's tongue lashed hungrily from its mouth. Its eyes widened just a fraction as it rested its gaze upon a figure huddled in the corner. A mop of platinum blonde hair covered the figure's face, and the robes covered every inch of the figure's body._

_The snake's head cocked to one side playfully. It's tail swishing about thoughtfully._

_With an astonishing speed, it coiled around the figure's body, tightening with every second. The man and the woman cried out and begged for forgiveness, but the snake took no heed. It bared its fangs and dug its yellow teeth into the figure's body, venom drooling down, collecting in the folds of the robes. _

"_I thoughtsss sooo...." The snake released the figure, and the mop of platinum hair fell away from the figure. The robes and cloak stuffed of straw dissolved under the puddle of venom, a strong distasteful smell hung in the air._

"_So that was your boy...pity..." The snake hissed with sudden force, and the man realised it was a laugh. The reptile slithered back out, the door banging shut behind him._

_The couple sat next to each other, replaying the snake's words in their heads over and over again. "Pity..." it had said. _

"_Dear God!" The woman croaked. "Our Draco! My son!"_

_The man buried his head into his hands. His son had failed. His plan was in ruins. _

_Please just let darkness enclose me, he begged. Let me join my son!_

* * *

Hermione lay clamped between two trunks. Around her gathered many things, butterbeer bottles, leaves of many kinds, wooden pieces, pipes, branches, clothes. They all swirled around in the breeze that wafted by, all moving. But she was still.

A drop of blood wept down her cheek from a wound in her forehead. It was caused by a stone flung into her with such force and sudden velocity, that she hadn't had the time to cast a spell. She had been swept along with the junk by the shakes and the wind a long distance away from the village.

Her eyes remained closed.

This was how Draco found her as he stumbled into the area, sweating, cursing, his clammy hand grasping a wand a man had thrust at him. The man, Draco had presumed, was that woman's husband.

He looked at how still she was; even her hair was damp and unmoving. Her wand was still in her hand, clenched tight.

He struggled not to cry.

This is death, he thought, this is what a dead person looks like. His whole frame shook as tears cascaded down his face. Her face was frightening white, her skin was so cold, so chilling that even Draco shivered.

He felt guilty. He wasn't crying because Hermione Granger was dead. He was crying because he was afraid of death.

Levitating the top trunk off her body, and then lifting the cold figure (using his wand) onto the ground, Draco prepared to bury her. As much as he had hated her in school, she was a person, a witch, and deserved to have a proper burial, even if her loved ones weren't there to see her off.

Draco dug a human sized hole, it was probably not big enough to fit him, but it was definitely big enough to fit Hermione Granger. She was shorter than him.

He hesitated as he raised his wand to place her into the hole. Instead, he grabbed a butterbeer bottle and used his wand to carve words on it.

_Here lies Hermone Granger,_ he wrote, _a muggle-born and Hogwarts student._ (He daren't to write mudblood- it was too mean, even for his standards.)

He plunged the tip of the bottle into the ground, and turned to bury Hermione.

To his immense surprise, she was sitting up; leaning against the trunk he had levitated earlier, wearily rubbing her eyes.

"How are you still alive?" He gaped.

"You got a problem with that?" Hermione shot back, her tone full of anger at him pronouncing her being dead.

Draco stood there, jaw dropped, staring at the very alive girl in front of him.

Hermione caught sight of the hole, and then the bottle. To his surprise, she started laughing.

"How nice! You were going to give me a proper burial! And my name's spelt H-E-R-M-I-O-N-E. Not Hermone."

He opened his mouth to argue back, but then realised his spelling mistake. Shamefaced, he sat down, well away from Hermione.

"Let's rest here for a while." He said, his eyes looking everywhere but at Hermione's gleeful face.

"Alright then. But... Do you really think going to Hogwarts is the right idea?"

Draco stared at her, baffled. "Did you hit your- oh, you did. Of course going to Hogwarts is the right idea! It's the safest place to be in all of Britain!"

Hermione frowned, casting a healing charm on her forehead. "It's just, I don't think these disasters are natural. They're too ordered- it's like there's a pattern but I can't figure it out. I want to know who's behind all this."

Draco decided not to speak. He of course, knew who was behind it, and where that man and his army of animals were. What he didn't know was the motives and how that man managed to control billions of beasts from all over the world.

"If you knew... What would you do?" Draco took his chances. Harold Yolkhurt would have arrived at the Ministry by now, and the Ministry was probably already planning an attack on wherever that mysterious fellow was, but it wouldn't hurt to see how one of the brightest witch of the generation thought, even if she lacked some common sense.

Hermione chewed on her lip. "I would tell the Ministry." She said at last. "I doubt such a wizard- or witch would be defeated by me, a witch barely out of school. But if I could-if I had the ability and power to, I'd want to defeat him myself. I'd want to solve this big mystery of why they're sending these large scale disasters upon us, and what he or she did to Crookshanks."

Draco brushed his hair away from his eyes. Both of them were in desperate need of baths, he noticed.

"Listen, if you don't want to go to Hogwarts, where do you propose we go?"

Hermione looked up, stunned that he was asking her for their next destination. "I want to stay and help the villagers rebuild the village. Then- maybe go to Hogwarts if we still don't know who's behind all this."

Draco shook his head disgustingly. "We are in no condition to help this village. They have plenty of wands, witches, wizards. It'll make no difference if we help."

"I thought there was no 'we'?" Hermione's voice was suddenly cold. "How about you go and go to Hogwarts, into safety, and I help these poor villagers rebuild their home so they can continue to live?" She stood up, shaking, as she struggled to get her weak legs working again.

Draco felt a wave of guilt wash over him.

He heaved a great sigh, stood up and helped Hermione up. She blinked up at him, confused.

"Don't say a word," he warned.

Hermione didn't.

* * *

Professor McGonagall always was an old woman to Ron and Harry, she was the elderly, strict professor when they first laid their eyes on her, and still, nearly a decade later, she still was.

But her hair, a few months ago, was streaked with grey, now not a trace of dark brown hair could be seen. The disasters had aged her, causing new wrinkles to form, causing the permanent tired look on her face.

She was busy with looking at the plans of Hogwarts when someone knocked rather impolitely on her door.

"Come in." Even her voice now sounded raspy, though the authority remained.

The door was gingerly pushed open, and two men strode in. She looked up and immediately noticed the absence of a certain bushy-haired girl. She noticed the starved looks on the faces, the look of someone deprived of something precious, she noticed the slight drag in their step, even though they seemed to walk briskly. The death of someone close to them was as noticeable and shocking as staring into the eyes of a dead man.

She gestured for them to sit down, conjuring up two wooden chairs for them. She knew they probably didn't want luxurious sofas. It would seem too vulgar and too disrespectful at a time like this.

"Good evening Professor McGonagall," Harry said. Ron followed suit, but his greeting was barely audible. It seemed the sudden disappearance of craving for Chocolate Frogs made him return back to reality, and made him feel and look upset.

"Er, I know you're really busy, but can Ron and I, plus Ron's parents and brothers stay at Hogwarts for a while? Until a-all this is over?" Harry's request, to him, seemed cowardly.

The older woman peered at them over her spectacles. Her sharp features softened, though the two men knew she had a lot of questions to ask.

"Of course," she replied. "Ex-students of Hogwarts are always welcome to come back. I was thinking of expanding some dormitories just before. The Great Hall is not a place for people to camp out and sleep in."

"Then that means we will be moving into the Gryffindor dormitories?" Ron asked, his voice hoarse.

"However, there is currently a great shortage of staff. A lot of the professors have gone to the Ministry to help uncover who is the one responsible for these disasters. Although I know you boys-excuse me- men, did not start nor finish your seventh year, I know you both to be well suited for the Defence Against the Dark Arts position. The educating of young witches and wizards must still continue on, especially in dark times like this."

Ron and Harry looked at each other. What they really wanted to do was rest, and wrap themselves in regret. But they both knew Professor McGonagall was offering them this post to take their mind off the death of Hermione and to busy themselves with more useful activities than drinking in sorrow.

They nodded.

"Well then, I will expand the teacher's rooms and also enlarge the office. School year has already begun, but the student's learning has been greatly hindered due to them only having three teachers available to teach all of them. Your timetables will be sent to your office by the end of tonight. The teacher's rooms are unlike the student's dormitories. You will have separate rooms and as the Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers, your rooms will be behind your offices. The password currently is 'Unite'." She nodded briefly at them and they knew the meeting was over.

Ron and Harry's chairs scraped as they pushed it back, with another flick of their wands, the chairs vanished and both of them beckoned the Headmistresses goodnight before heading outside.

"So Harry, we're professors eh?" Ron said, rubbing his hands together. "Thought I'd make a good Auror, but torturing these small titchy students would make up for the adventures we miss out."

His attempt at brightening the atmosphere was almost worth applauding. Harry managed to crack a smile.

"Yeah," he answered, "Yeah, me an' you, professors of our favourite subject. Bet it'd be a shock to Hagrid?"

"Naw. He'd just welcome us with bone-crushing hugs and a stoat sandwich."

Both of them chuckled at the thought of Hagrid. Their travel worn cloaks gently brushed the cold stone floor as they hurried outside to the Gamekeepers Cabin.

Both of them wanted to forget Hermione as fast as possible. The memory of her death still bore heart wrenching holes in them. They wanted to forget and move on.

Though they both knew that it wasn't possible.

* * *

**The real journey begins here.**

**This is the start of Part Two.**

**Case one: The death of Paul, the accusation of Draco.

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**

"Watch out! Another one coming down!"

Hermione darted out of the way as another building was torn down. The villagers, after a heated discussion had decided to tear down the formerly unused buildings so they could have enough materials to rebuild their houses. Hermione had joined in without hesitation, though Draco was reluctant.

"You have a wand," Hermione lectured him severely, "Jack gave you one, did he not?"

"Yes," Draco retorted defensively, "But I don't see how mingling with these _woodsmen_, is going to help me."

Hermione twirled around, her hair billowing around her face like a storm cloud. "Help you?" she cried, "you don't need help! These people just had their homes destroyed and families killed, dirtying your robes certainly isn't that great a deal? Not that your robes could be any dirtier." She added, casting a disdainful look at his dusty and mud streaked robes.

"Yours don't look so good either." He shot back. "In fact, I'd say it matched with your blood-_mudblood."_

Hermione glared at him and stalked away, levitating heavy walls of fallen buildings from the ground and sending it to the temporary material storage, which was in the village's centre square.

Draco watched her go, and used his wand to clean his robes.

"You know. We don't appreciate people who discriminate others." Someone piped up from behind him. Startled, Draco turned around and found a large pair of brown eyes staring at him.

The little girl attempted to help him clean his robes, but all she did was add more stains. He brushed her away impatiently.

"I can call her whatever I like." He said shortly.

"You're mean. She's nice. Why are you two together?" The little girl rubbed her sore hand and continued to look at him in that curious way.

"We're not together. Don't get the wrong idea. We just have a similar goal."

"But isn't it better if you two respect each other and get along with each other? It'd make things easier wouldn't it?"

Draco was fed up with being lectured all the time. First it was that bushy-haired know-it-all, and now this stupid (okay, not so stupid), nosey little girl, what is with girls?

"I don't need a lecture from you, okay? Do me a favour and _sod off_." He stormed away.

"My name's Rita!" She called from behind him. Draco ignored her, though the name sounded familiar.

Next time I see that girl, he thought angrily, I'd give her a snake.

He headed down the street, ignoring everything and everyone. Turning into a quieter and smaller road, hoping for a place to sleep, Draco headed down the road, wearily twirling his wand absentmindedly and occasionally levitating things out of his way.

"Oi you down there! Give me a hand please!" A person hollered down from somewhere. Draco looked up.

He shrugged and turned away. "No. I don't want to."

The man frowned. "It's hard being the only-ARGHH!" So frightening was his scream did Draco look up. To his horror, the man had fell and crashed beside him on a pile of timber before he had a chance to react.

"What the-"

"You! With the wand! What did you do to Paul?" A large man barged past him and reeled back in horror at the sight of the mangled and bloody body.

"He's dead!" The man shrieked, "You killed him! Speak up! What did you do to him?"

"I-"

"What in the blazes is going on?" A huge crowd had surged down the street, all curiously looking from Draco to the man.

"Oh my God!" A woman from the crowd gasped at she caught sight of the dead man.

"It's Paul!" She said, raising her shaking fingers to her face. "Paul of the Potion Brewery."

The man turned to Draco. "He did it. When I came here after hearing Paul scream, I saw him, standing there looking at him with a wand. Look! He has it still."

Everyone followed his gaze and saw the wand Draco held tightly.

"I did not kill him." Draco said firmly. "I don't even know the man. What proof do you have of me killing him?"

"Let's check his wand. See what spell he last used." The woman who had identified the dead man pushed her way to the front and held her hand out for Draco's wand.

He handed it over to her without a word.

"Let's see..." The woman muttered a spell under her breath and something whooshed out of the tip of his wand. It showed that he had used a levitating spell last.

"That's it! Proof!" An older man headed towards them from the murmuring crowd. "He used the levitating spell to levitate him into the air and then released him, onto this pile!"

"No. He didn't." Someone too made their way forward. Draco, startled, saw who it was.

"Hermione." He said. His eyes were pleading, "I didn't do it."

She barely glanced at him. "He's a coward, a liar and a bully. But he's not a murderer."

The man who had accused Draco glared at her. "You are his companion. Of course you'd cover up for him."

Hermione looked coolly back at him. "It doesn't matter what he is to me. I would not cover up for my closest friend if I knew he had committed such a crime. As it is, all you have is circumstantial evidence."

She crouched down and used her wand to gently move the victim's head so that the back of his head was turned towards her.

"See here." She pointed, all three villagers peered closer. "He has a large bruise forming on the back of his head. The position of his body was that he had fell face down. So the bruise and majority of his injuries should be on the front of his body. So then- how did this bruise form?"

There was a moment of silence.

"Simple." The old man said. "He used a levitating spell to levitate something, whacked it on his head and sent him falling down."

"That's not plausible." Hermione replied. She stood up and faced the listening crowd.

"That bruise was formed by a solid object being hit from behind. The way this man-Paul- fell was that he fell face down. Thus, it meant he was facing this side of the street. If Draco really did what you just said, did Paul really not see? This street is small and narrow, and well lit- Draco's light hair also makes him stand out. No, I think someone else did it-from behind. And the bruise was not formed from a levitation spell, but rather someone throwing an object at him."

"So who did this, if not this Draco?"

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know. All we can do is study the evidence laid out and logically eliminate suspects until the only one remains."

The crowd parted as Hermione dragged a silent Draco through. Though he did not show it, he was grateful she had helped him out of that tough situation.

"What were you thinking?" Hermione hissed, once they were out of earshot. "Wandering around with your wand out, if it wasn't for the obvious, even I would have thought you killed him."

"I just wanted to find a place to sleep."

"Hey you! The bushy haired one!" The man who had found the body huffed as he caught up to them. "The village leader wants you to figure this murder out. He says you have the right head." From his tone, it was evident the man did not agree with the village leader.

Hermione nodded. "Of course I will." She looked meaningfully at Draco. "Stay close to me and don't do anything rash."

Draco thought it was best not to argue back.

Hermione hurried back into the street, where it was now empty of people except the old man (the village leader, Miklash), the woman who had identified Paul (Rosaline) and the man who had accused Draco (Thom) and the little girl who had annoyed Draco (Rita).

They had formed a semi circle around Paul, who was still lying there with his eyes wide open in surprise.

Hermione knelt down and gingerly studied the corpse. Paul was a middle-aged man of about late forties, had black hair streaked with grey and dull blue grey eyes. He had a muscular build, strong-looking and tan skin, and was wearing dust covered green robes and a grey cloak.

Draco crouched down too, and noticed something she did not. "His robes are a bit loose- is that a tattoo on his chest?"

Hermione loosened the robe even more and revealed a small blood red picture on Paul's chest. It was a cat's paw, tattooed with red ink.

"This was printed on fairly recently. Look- the ink hasn't dried yet. This tattoo was probably just done in the recent hour."

"What kind of person gets a tattoo done at a time like this?" Draco asked. "And a cat's paw- what the hell does that represent?"

Rosaline had seen what the two were looking at. "Paul had a cat."

"Had?" Hermione asked.

"Yes. It disappeared a while ago. Several weeks in fact."

"Was he mistreating this cat?"

"No! Paul loved his cat! His cat always followed him everywhere. Paul's Brewery is even named after his cat."

"Was Paul rich? Has he done anything to offend anyone?"

"Not that I know of. He was very popular and was very nice to everyone. I can't imagine who would do such a thing."

Hermione stood up. "Draco, a word please."

She led them into a secluded area where nobody could over hear them.

"What I want, Draco, is a witness account. So fire away."

"Er- well, I've already established that I went in there because I wanted a place to sleep. Some guy- Paul- wanted me to help him. I was tired and refused. Then he said something to me and screamed. He fell before I could help him."

"What did he say?"

"'It's hard being the only', I think, then he screamed."

"And the place was quiet and deserted?"

"Yes, that's why I went in there."

"Did you see anything suspicious? Any bricks being thrown or something?"

"No."

"Thank you." Hermione headed back to where the others were standing.

"Miklash, you have a record of all villagers currently living is that right? Please give it to me so I can figure this out."

The village elder nodded and summoned several scrolls. "I've recently sorted them by age and gender."

"Thank you. Which is the one that contains the names of men above the age of twenty?"

Miklash handed two scrolls to her, looking confused and puzzled.

Hermione studied the scrolls for a moment before smiling to herself. "Please call these three men, Gunther, James and William."

Rosaline conjured up a patronous (a horse), which galloped away. "They will be here shortly," she said.

"Okay, before they come here, I just want to lay the facts that I have gathered." Hermione paced around, collecting her thoughts before continuing.

"One- Paul is a strong man who seems quite capable of defending himself. Two- He was working here, alone, and had wanted help. Three- the fact he had faced down towards here instead of towards the place he was working was because he was talking to Draco, who was also alone in this street. Four- A blunt, solid object was thrown at the back of his head while he was talking. We know it is thrown by force and not by wand because of how big the bruise is. The bruise would have been bigger, and cuts would have formed if a spell was used, as it is more powerful.

So the conclusions I have drawn are thus- the person who committed this crime is a pretty strong person themselves, presumably a man, as women can't cause such a damage to this strong man. The person knew that Paul was working up here alone, and to avoid suspicion, they must have joined the crowd. They threw something at him, because they knew that using wands would give them away, if each wand was carefully examined. By studying these scrolls, I have narrowed the suspects down to four. Three of them are heading this way and one of them is standing here in front of me."

At this, the three adults in front of her looked suspiciously at one another. Gunther, William and James had arrived by then and were waiting patiently.

"Okay, I'm going to ask each of you one question- what were you doing at the time of the crime?"

"I was tearing down the old library." Gunther replied. "My brothers were helping me-they can back me up."

"Where is this old library?"

"Just 'round the corner, several blocks away."

"What about you, James?"

"I was helping me wife cook food for the people to eat. Me wife can vouch for me."

"And William?"

"Rebuilding my house. It's near the centre square."

"Miklash?"

"Sorting out the registers."

"The registers?"

"The one which shows who is doing what at what time of the day. I'm to organise it."

"Who can vouch for you?"

"Rosaline. She helps me sort it."

"Rosaline, is this true?"

"Yes. I was helping Miklash with the registers."

"Thank you."

Draco heard this interrogation with interest. It seemed Hermione already knew who the culprit was, but was just buying time. The answers the people had given all provided them with alibis. He wondered which of them had done the deed.

Hermione handed the scrolls she was holding to him, then without a word she paced around, chewing her lip and biting hard, her hands were in a flurry of gestures that evidently helped her to think.

Draco opened the scroll titled 'Men: Forty to Eighty years' and read the names. Everyone (save Rosaline) was part of this scroll. It seemed whatever this scroll contained was of the upmost importance in this case.

_Anthony: 80 yrs._

_Boris: 75 yrs._

_David: 60 yrs._

_Ethan: 79 yrs._

_Fred: 66 yrs._

_Gunther: 45 yrs_

_James: 50 yrs_

_Miklash: 55 yrs_

_Thom: 47 yrs_

_William: 40 yrs._

Draco rolled up the scroll again, and managed to figure out why and how Hermione had narrowed down the suspects. What he didn't get was why she chose this age group as opposed to younger adult men.

Suddenly Hermione clapped her hands together, startling everyone.

"I know who the culprit is." She said. She whirled around and pointed.

"You did it."

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Please please review!

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	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I need to start studying....**

**Please read and REVIEW!!!**

**Kudos to everyone that did for the other chapters. And extra for those that review this one :)**

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**Chapter eight**

"You've found them? The person behind all this?" The Minister of Magic was ecstatic.

"Yes. He's currently in hiding in North America."

"America? Is this source of information reliable?"

"Yes. Very much so." Harold Yolkhurt said. "I heard it from a very reliable source."

"Which area in North America?"

"I'm not sure."

"Well, I'd send out aurors right away. Thank you, Harold."

"No problem."

The Minister did not see the wolfish grin that emerged as Harold left the room.

* * *

_(note: from hence onwards, it will be focused on entirely Hermione and Draco.)_

* * *

Her finger was pointed directly at Thom.

"May I ask you what you were doing at the time of the crime?"

Thom, who was pale and shivering, cast her a murderous look. "I did not do it. How can you accuse me of something I didn't do? And I was looking around for my daughter."

It was then Hermione noticed the little girl whose hands were flung around Thom's legs.

"Who can vouch for you?" Hermione had a very weird smile on her face. A triumphant glint gleamed in her eyes.

"Everybody near the centre square. I was asking people if they've seen Rita."

"And it just so happened that you was so close to the scene of crime? That you hurried here so quickly?"

"I told you. I heard the scream and came here. I was quick because someone told me Rita was headed in this direction."

Draco had not known Hermione well, but even he knew that she seemed to be waiting for something to happen.

"Who told you that?"

"I-I don't know. I was in a rush, I was so worried..."

Draco studied the reactions of the remaining people- the innocent ones. They all seemed strangely calm, if it was him, he'd be greatly relieved that he wasn't the accused and be extremely furious at the fact that someone close to them had killed someone.

Instead, William, Gunther James and Rosaline was absorbed in a deep conversation about Paul's shop, and whether they should tear it down or use it as a temporary place for people to live in. Miklash was crouching down, rolling up the scrolls that he had summoned earlier.

"-Just a moment, Thom. What were you supposed to be doing?"

"E-excuse me?"

"Miklash had the registers that told everyone what to do at what time. What were you supposed to do?"

"I didn't check it. Miklash was still organising things with the register, with the disaster and all, we don't know who's still alive and who isn't. Rosaline was gathering names of those in those scrolls you saw."

Hermione turned around, her smile getting wider by the second. "I can prove, with these registers, that Thom you are the culprit. But even without it, by process of elimination that you are the only person possible to commit this crime.

Miklash was organising the registers, helped out by Rosaline. Rosaline, did you leave his side for long periods of time?"

"No-well there was a time where I went to use the bathroom, but that was only a few moments. I was with him in the centre square, taking down names of everybody within view- pretty easy to see everyone with the buildings torn down and the village being so small. I then sorted the names of everyone I saw and gave them to Miklash. I was planning to finish the scrolls afterwards at dinner, with everybody gathered around." Rosaline answered, breaking away from the conversation.

"Thank you. So now we're two suspects down. Next- Gunther was tearing down the old library. I can vouch for him because I saw him there, and he never left. Same goes for William and James, I was helping people levitate things to the centre square, I had passed James and William along the way. The only person I did not see, and doesn't have a proper alibi, is you Thom."

Thom was now very red in the face. "I told you," he protested, "I didn't do the deed!"

"You said you were looking for your daughter. That may be true, but it also gave you an excuse to wander around without being suspicious. Yet your daughter is currently with you without you looking for her."

"That was because she followed the crowd and found me here!"

"Miklash, it seems the registers are necessary, please summon them here so I can prove to Thom he's the culprit." Hermione asked.

Miklash, who didn't seem to be following the interrogation, looked surprised. "Of course." He said. A second later the scrolls whizzed into the street, which Miklash handed to Hermione's outstretched hand.

She studied it for a moment, and then gave a small exclamation of surprise. "Yes," she laughed, "this proves it. This proves who the culprit is."

"Thom, you are hereby arrested for murder." Miklash waved his wand and ropes appeared, binding Thom who was jerking around madly, his eyes wide in protest. Rita stared on at this scene, screaming as her father was captured.

"Wait." Hermione stepped between the two men and waved her own wand. The ropes vanished.

"Thom isn't the killer. I just used him as bait. Miklash, perhaps you should hand your wand over to me."

Miklash stared in horror. "Are you accusing me of killing Paul? How outrageous!"

"Refusing to hand over your wand is very suspicious." Hermione grinned, Draco felt a chill creep up his spine. This was the first time he's seen Hermione like this, like a predatory dog looking at prey it was about to devour.

Miklash nearly threw his wand at her. "Examine it. You have no proof."

"Actually, I do. Like I said, Thom was the excuse to bring out the evidence I needed. Which was the registers. You probably wouldn't have handed them over willingly if I hadn't 'solved' the case."

"How did the registers prove _anything?_" Miklash was spitting now, his black frizzy hair messy. Everyone was silent. The village leader being accused of murder was a much more serious thing than a mere villager committing the crime.

"To answer that, I'll have to start at the beginning. I have studied the scrolls and read the names. Yet, note this- Jack and Paul's names aren't there. This proves that the scrolls are incomplete. This is probably due to Rosaline only taking names of who she sees. However, on the register, Paul's name appears. He is assigned to tear down this building right here. How is it that a person whose name isn't on the scrolls on the register? Of course, you could have known who Paul is and added his name, but why didn't you add his name on the scrolls? Simple-you didn't have enough time to correct the scrolls and you didn't want Rosaline to pay attention to Paul. You used her as an alibi, if you added Paul's name onto the scroll, Rosaline probably would have left in search of him, to make sure he's okay.

Another thing is this-the murder weapon. Anything could have been used to fling at him, yet Draco here did not see anything fall or hit Paul even though he was looking at him-why? Because the weapon was invisible and was retrieved immediately after it hit its target. Due to the short time frame between the time the object was thrown and Thom arriving, I'd have assumed the murderer took the weapon away with him as they disapparated, scared of being seen.

I then looked at the registers-though it was curled up, it was evident that while you were sorting through the rolls of parchments, you had something to hold down the edges. By examining the marks, I could tell it was something heavy and solid and box-like. This matched the marks on the victim's head. I also saw the blotches of red ink hastily being taken, shown by the very small red ink drops on the parchments even though the rest is in black.

So by gathering these facts, I presumed the crime was committed like this:

You assigned Paul to tear down this building so you knew where he was. Next, you waited until Rosaline had a break, grabbed the weight and some ink, apparated to where Paul was, threw the weight at him and at mid-air, summoned the paper weight back. I'd have assumed the paper weight is invisible or transparent- the former seems more possible, a disillusionment spell is simple enough. You then heard Thom coming, panicked as the body wasn't supposed to be discovered so early, and disapparated without planting a decoy weapon to take the scent off you. You arrived back to the centre square, where you saw Rosaline coming. You quickly replaced the red ink and the weapon to its original places, so she wouldn't be suspicious. That was your mistake.

Look closely at the register- more evidence can be found that you used the paper weight as a weapon. When you replaced it, the hairs that had attached to the paper weight fell off. Your hair, Miklash is black, but the hairs are blonde. Paul's hair is that shade of blonde. Put two and two together and that makes you the only person able to commit the crime."

Everybody stood there gaping, mouths wide open. Draco didn't though, he had taken the register from Hermione before she started and had noticed the same things as she did. He also knew that Thom's alibi was worthy. Rita had approached him, saw Draco leave and enter this street, there was a strong possibility she had followed. Draco also had just remembered that he had seen the father and daughter before, at the large area where the villagers had fled to.

Draco also thought that the real culprit would not have hurried over so quickly. Although it may _seem_ less suspicious if they'd 'discovered' the body and found the accuser, arriving so early would make it even more suspicious, which is what Hermione had used against Thom earlier. Thus the culprit would have blended in with the crowd rather than to draw attention to themselves.

Draco reasoned that Miklash only came forward to fulfil his duty as the village leader, if he didn't come forward, it would seem strange. But thanks to Hermione with her logic and intelligence, Miklash was still caught.

"Miklash, you are the murderer of Paul." Hermione spoke with a finality tone. Her brown eyes were now thin slits, showing her disproval and disgust.

"I-I did n-" Miklash suddenly doubled over, clutching his stomach, gagging profusely. He fell onto the ground, rolling around, the whites of his eyes showing as he clawed at his face.

"No-s-spare me- I d-did the d-deed," he stuttered, "I-k-killed him. Like y-you t-told me- please!"

Hermione stepped over him, pointing her wand at his throat. "Who ordered you to kill Paul? Why did you leave a cat's paw tattooed on Paul's chest? What happened to Paul's cat?"

"I-I" Miklash's eyes were so wide, his face was turning blue as he struggled to get the words out. "I-I saw c-cat... h-had to-.... m-made me...P-please!" his shaking stopped and his eyes froze, his pupils dilated.

Miklash died. Hermione backed away, horrified.

Draco saw and heard all this without breathing a word.

* * *

"Next time, Granger, don't call me Draco."

"I'm sorry, I forgot, _Scorpius._" Hermione snapped back.

She had been in an angry mood since Miklash's death. Draco knew why- she had been so close in getting answers about the sudden disappearance of the animals and the disasters, but Miklash had died before she wormed the answers out of him.

"Well..."

"Well what?"

"Thanks. For helping me out in that tough spot." Draco mumbled the last bit under his breath. Thanking mudbloods wasn't what he was supposed to do. He was Draco- the pureblood bully and mudblood hater. But Hermione helping him back there even though she didn't need to made him feel grateful.

It also made him feel a bit scared of her, if truth be told. Memorising textbooks off by heart and getting one hundred percent on all tests he could handle, but solving murder mysteries in just under the hour and 'fishing' out the real culprit- it seemed Hermione's brain power had no depths.

"Here we are." They stopped in front of a torn down building that looked to be a shop originally.

"What are we here for? Supplies?" Draco asked sarcastically, eyeing the dust and grit in front of him.

Hermione drew out her wand. "No-I want to find the shop's sign. Help me."

"Say please," Draco muttered. But he drew his wand too.

Hermione, despite her mood, nearly grinned. In the course of events that had occurred, Draco definitely had toned down a bit on his 'bully the mudblood' activities. He even had talked to her nicely, Hermione had the distinct feeling he was scared of her.

Fifteen minutes later, Draco emerged from the pile, triumphantly levitating a heavy wooden sign board.

"What do we need this junk for?" He asked, watching as Hermione prodded the signpost.

"Didn't you listen? Paul loved his cat so much he named his shop after it. Paul's cat disappeared several weeks ago-despite him caring so much. Miklash saw the cat and was forced to kill Paul- This signboard is the only clue of who that cat was."

"You mean, a cat is behind this whole 'master plan' thing?" Draco asked dubiously.

"Of course not. But someone was controlling the cat to run away- just like Pig and Crookshanks did. They were acting strangely before they disappeared, like they were possessed by something. That same someone, I believe, placed Miklash under some spell, blackmailed or forced him to kill Paul for some reason, and killed him when he was found out."

"I see. And prodding the signpost with your wand is going to help because...?"

"It may reveal something- oh I don't know!" Hermione threw up her hands in defeat.

Draco crouched down beside her and squinted at the sign board. "Ferix? Is that the cat's name?"

Hermione looked down and cleaned the board with her wand. "F.E.L.I.X-Felix. Felix the cat!"

"Great. Now we know the cat's name-what's next?"

Hermione glared at him. "Think for yourself for once, you have a brain I presume?"

Draco was offended. "Of course I do. I didn't get into Advanced Potions for nothing."

Hermione grunted, "whatever," she said.

"Okay let's see... we've got the cat's name. The clue of the cat's paw tattooed in red ink, former owner of Felix killed by someone under a spell...What's that symbol?"

She pointed to the logo on the sign board. It was a picture of a cat's head, drawn crudely with several jagged, black lines. What was curious that had drawn her eye was the pattern of scratches on it. The lines were thin and jagged, as if carved with something blunt and thin. There was a very faint blue ink on the scratches as well.

"Dr-Scorpius, help me out. Clean this signboard properly and sprinkle some coloured dust on it or something."

Draco looked at her. "What?"

"Please just do as I say- I think this is a clue left by the real murderers."

He did as she asked him to, sending blue dust showering over the signboard, it caught inside the dents and scratches of the board.

He cocked his head to one side, studying it. "2HDE4T-What in Merlin's pants does that mean?"

Hermione frowned. "It's a message of some sort. Great! I'm no good at codes!"

"I might be rather good. I had to make up all sorts of codes in-" Draco broke off suddenly, his face red, remembering the days when Voldemort lived with him under the same roof.

Silence reigned between them.

Hermione cleared her throat, "Let's just focus on this. What do you think?"

"It seems to be in small bits- like each letter means a word or something, 2 can be short for 'to', 4 can be short for 'for'."

"What about H and D and E?"

"I'm not sure. It might even be in a different language to English for all I know."

"True."

They mulled over about the code for a bit before Draco collapsed onto the ground, tired of crouching.

"I'm hungry-I'm out of those berries."

"I don't have food either." Hermione sighed and sat down too. "Let's head back and ask the villagers for some food. Jane gave me a pack of supplies and robes but I lost it in the forest-hey, maybe it's still there! _Accio_ bag!"

They waited for a few moments, listening. After a short while they heard it- charging forwards like a maniac, knocking down unstable buildings along the way.

They emptied the bag enthusiastically, sorting through and dividing the food into portions.

"Dears, there's no need to eat out here. Come with us. You helped us a lot today." Jane came towards them, beckoning for them to follow.

"We villagers are very grateful for what you did. Miklash had been acting oddly currently-neglecting duties, talking in coarse language out of the blue-now we know." There was a strange bitterness in Jane's voice.

Then she brightened. "Look, that's my daughter-Jessie!"

A young woman looked up, she was about twenty or so. The resemblance between Jane and Jessie was striking-they looked so similar. She appeared to be holding a strange broken equipment.

"Jessie-what are you doing with those muggle fellytones?" Jane scolded, "I thought you said you wouldn't be collecting any?"

Jessie looked guilty, "Well, I saw this while cleaning and-I promise I won't bring this home. I know my room's overflowing with robes and stuff."

Something clicked in Hermione. "Telephones-mobile phones- Texting! Of course! The code!"

Draco looked blank. "Er-what?"

"You're right. The code is in several parts. Maybe if I applied text language to the code- it might make sense."

"Er- Text Language- what is that? Is that a muggle thing?"

"Yes. But I think whoever did this is either a muggle born or half blood, someone related to muggles."

"Why?"

"The scratches was made using ball point pens. Remember the thinness of the scratches and the faint ink?"

"No." Draco replied truthfully. He did not see it.

"Well, the scratches weren't deep- in fact it was barely visible. It looked like someone used a capped pen to scratch the message on it and then went over it in pen so the recipient could see which scratches mattered, we couldn't see it properly because of all the dirt."

"er-okay..."

"Texting is very popular in the muggle world, but hardly any wizards know of its existence. Thus, to use texting is perfect as a code for a village full of wizards."

"So, Ms Know-it-all, what does that code mean?"

"I'll ignore the insult, Scorpius. I'm not a pro at texting-but I do know some words, like lol, brb, stuff like that."

"You sound like you're speaking another language."

"In a sense I am. Now..." They sat down at a table, chewing on the tough meat that was served.

"HDE, hyde? Maybe not. HD-hard? Head? E4- Eat for? Or maybe DE- dee?"

"You don't make any sense." Draco sat back, stirring the soup in front of him.

"Please be quiet. I'm concentrating." Hermione snapped.

"Ouch-I pulled your wand or something?"

"Either shut up, or help me. I'd prefer the latter though." Hermione added as an afterthought.

"E4... reminds me of chess, you know, knight go to E4?"

"I doubt that's what- hey! Maps!"

"What?"

"Maps are divided into grids, like D4, E4... but different maps have different grids... Unless...E for East perhaps? Maybe the code is giving directions?"

"so... to hard east for T?"

"That doesn't sound right. I think HD stands for head. Like head this way."

"Okay... to head east for T?"

"Argh! What does T stand for? A landmark? A town name? What?" Hermione had totally ignored the food in front of her and was frowning with her arms crossed.

"There's no town I know of in this area that starts with a T."

"I'm also thinking the cat logo has something to do with this code..."

"how about... cat to heat east for-"

"-we need a map. Jane?" Hermione looked around, cutting Draco off in mid sentence.

Jane bustled over. "yes Ms. Grant? Do you need a refill?"

"Er, I'm sorry, but do you have a map?"

"A map? Of course. Here." Jane summoned a map and passed it to Hermione. "You can keep it." She added, before moving away to serve others.

Hermione spread the map open. "Where are we?" she asked.

Draco pointed to a place in the middle of the map. "Here. Optium Lucidus."

"Okay... east to here... there's so many towns and villages! None of them start with T though..."

"Let's look at the code from a different view. We've established that the start is 'cat to head east'. I think 4 doesn't represent 'for', as none of the towns and places start with T." Draco said.

Hermione looked at him with a weird expression. "What?" he asked.

"Nothing, just didn't know you actually had a brain and used it for once." Hermione grinned.

"Thanks for the compliment," he replied sarcastically.

"No problem. Okay... how about the 4 represents the number four?"

"But that doesn't make sense... cat to head east four T."

"Let's put some punctuation in. How about, cat to head east, fourth T?"

"Fourth... T for Town! Cat to head east, fourth town! What's the fourth town east from here?"

Hermione peered over. "Let's see... It's a muggle town! Harringtown."

"That's their next destination." Draco grinned.

"And ours." Hermione picked up her fork and used it to pick up some veggies.

Draco coughed. "What?"

"We're going there. To Harringtown. I'm not going to let this person-or people get away with murder again."

"How about- let's go to the ministry and tell them?"

"By the time we do that, it'd be too late."

"We're barely out of school! We didn't complete our last year!"

"We have wands. I know a lot of spells."

"Imagine this. Rational Granger doing something irrational. Next thing we know, Ron Weasley becomes Minister."

"I just want to do something for once, be the... heroine, not the side kick."

"You want to be the hero?" Draco laughed. "I thought you'd be like, '_that's so dangerous, let's think about it?'_ You've changed."

"So have you," Hermione shot back. "Anyway, whether you like it or not, I'm going."

"Er- do I have a choice?"

"Yes. Go to Hogwarts without me, go with a handful of spells and curses."

"Were you this evil back in school? Wait. Yes- you punched me."

"You rightly deserved it."

"I guess."

"E-excuse me?" Hermione spluttered. "Did you just admit you were at fault?"

"Yes. I did. Stop rubbing it in." He looked peeved, and rightly so, Hermione thought. It wasn't every day the school bully admitted he was wrong, yet she was teasing him for it.

"So... Harringtown?" Draco asked. "Not Hogwarts?"

"Nope. Harringtown it is."

He was _so _looking forward to it.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: Sorry for not updating for so long. Went on a long holiday overseas.**

**Please continue to read and review. I will make an effort to update faster (though school starts next week, lol)

* * *

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**CHAPTER NINE****  
**

Draco and Hermione arrived at Harringtown, soaking wet. Their new robes (provided by Jane) were now streaked with mud and foliage from the forest they just emerged out of. Hermione glanced at her watch and sighed.

"What?" Draco snapped, pushing his sopping wet hair out of his face. He was not in the best of moods. They both had not slept nor ate during their journey here, as Hermione was desperate not to let the same thing happen before their very eyes.

"It's early in the morning, it's bloody five am and it just suddenly rained. I'm soaking wet-and hungry." Hermione moaned. The rain had pounced upon them suddenly and swiftly just moments ago. It was like it had wanted to welcome them into this muggle town, Harringtown, with a bit of a laugh.

"Great. Five. Where the hell do we find an inn to stay at?" Draco grumbled.

Hermione cast him an amused look. "We're in a muggle town in the twenty first century. We call them hotels nowadays."

"Remind me again why I hate muggles? They always change their vocabulary every few years. It's unbelievable!"

"It's called evolution. People move forward."

"I don't believe in science. I believe-"

"-in magic. I figured."

They tramped along the deserted road. Hermione had led them on a shortcut way ignoring muggle roads so they could apparate without being seen. She had insisted they apparate a few kilometres away from Harringtown and walk the rest of the way.

Draco had no choice but to follow her commands. In the short event of a couple of days, he had gone from the one issuing orders to the one following them. He had seen Hermione's angry side and detective predatory side, and quite frankly, he was scared of what she might do to him, he had no Goyle to back him up anymore (he stiffened at the thought of Crabbe-dead), and with Hermione and her head full of curses and spells which she won't hesitate to use now that they were free from school rules, Draco thought it best to steer way clear of her.

She stopped suddenly, causing him to bump into her. "Hey-warn someone if you're going to stop!" He growled.

She ignored him. He followed her gaze and caught sight of a magnificent rose garden. The main road in which they were walking on had branched out into a shorter, thinner concrete path which snaked out in the middle of the beautiful rose bushes. The path was shaded by a glass roof on which there were many rose patterns carved onto its delicate surface.

"It's wonderful." She breathed, drinking in every petal, every leaf of this garden. The very air seemed sweet and light, just by looking at it. She forgot about them standing in the middle of the road, with heavy rain cascaded down, flooding their path, washing away everything that did not put up a good enough fight.

Draco scoffed. "This is nothing compared to the garden I have at home-we have much more interesting plants than these silent, stupid roses."

"Don't call them stupid!" Hermione retorted. "Roses are beautiful-their soft petals and when their buds are unfurling- it's simply beautiful!"

Draco sighed. "In case you haven't noticed, Granger, it's five am in the morning and we're soaking wet. I need a place to sleep and the dry off, okay? Leave the flower viewing til later, we're not here on a viewing spree."

Hermione tore her eyes away. "Alright," she murmured. "But after we chase down that cat, I'm definitely going back here."

They continued down the road, occasionally checking the map Hermione had with her. Jessie had provided them with muggle maps (which she secretly gave to them, in fear of her mother finding out she had gathered more muggle things). They were headed to the town's cheapest hotel. There were only two hotels in this town. One was a high class, five star hotel called Harringtons, that boasted of the town's most expensive recreation centres, shops and restaurants, and the other was a modest three star hotel which was clean and seemed family owned, which Hermione liked.

Draco had wanted to stay at the five star hotel, but Hermione had pointed out that neither of them had much money with them. Converting wizard money into muggle cash was a very hard thing to do in the village they stayed at, as only Jessie had muggle money. Also, Jessie had but only just under a hundred pounds. Not near enough to get one room at that flash hotel, whereas they were able to score two rooms at the other room.

They arrived at the hotel at last, and went inside, aware of the pools of sopping wet mud they left on the carpet.

The receptionist, who was vacuuming the floor, looked up surprised at the two visitors. Hermione glanced at her watch- it was already seven am.

"We'd like to stay here for several nights," Hermione said, aware of how appalling they looked.

"O-of course. Er, would that be one or two rooms?"

"TWO!" Draco and Hermione blurted out, casting each other disgusted looks.

The receptionist gave a small smile and had them fill out a form, which Hermione completed for the two of them, using their fake names of Scorpius Moni and Hershey Grant.

The receptionist, handed over two keys and showed them the way there. Before Hermione and Draco opened their doors, the receptionist, a kind, motherly figure asked them if they wanted new pairs of clothes.

"You wizards must be uncomfortable wearing robes all the time," she said cheerfully.

"Well, I quite like muggle clothes better," Hermione confessed, "But robes aren't tha- aren't you a muggle?"

The receptionist gave another small smile. "I guess you guys don't know about the Prime Minister and the Minister of Magic going on television and revealing the other community."

Hermione and Draco gaped at this turn of events. Both of them had been isolated from the world around them for so long, they had not known about this piece of news.

"It's great having you two here in this town, not to mention in this hotel. You guys are the only wizards and witches in this town so far. We only saw them on television-well then, good night, or should I say good morning?" The receptionist disappeared into the lift. "I'll bring your clothes later, there should be some bath robes in the closet."

Hermione unlocked the door to her room and stepped inside. The room was modestly furnished, with a double four poster bed (she thought wistfully about the ones in Hogwarts), a dressing table, a walk-in closet, a small bathroom and two comfortable sturdy chairs that were placed around a circular table, there was also a small television resting upon a bureau. Everything was neat and tidy, just the way she liked it.

She shrugged off her backpack, and laid out everything on the table, drying them with a handy spell she learnt from Mrs Weasley. Some food which had not been securely sealed was ruined in the rain, but most of the non-perishable food survived. Her spare robes and cloaks looked as if they were dragged in mud, and were in desperate need of a wash. Hermione, who was beyond exhausted decided to use the washing machine after a nice, long nap.

In the room next door, Draco stood glaring around his room. It was nearly identical to Hermione's, except instead of having two small chairs, there was a large sofa. It was tiny, in his standards, and far too bland. There wasn't even a single portrait on the wall!

Disgusted, he flung his bag onto the sofa and stepped into the bathroom, hoping for a nice, big bathtub where he could wash off all the grime and dirt he'd accumulated for the past several weeks.

He was sorely disappointed.

Inside, there was a tiny bath tub that also acted as a shower. The bathroom was just big enough to include a sink, toilet and a bathtub, and nothing else. Draco's wardrobe at the Manor was at least two times bigger than this. He sighed heavily, stripped (flinging his dirty robes and cloak outside the bathroom, where it landed on a heap on the vacuumed carpet) and turned on the shower. The steam helped to get the grime out of his pores and refresh him, but he still wished for his bath tub back at home.

About forty minutes later, he stepped out, looking much cleaner. He wrapped the bath robe he'd found around himself and prepared to take a nice, long nap to fully replenish his energy.

Just as he tore the covers away from his bed, a flurry of footsteps rushed past his door, people were talking in loud, scared voices. It was evident something bad had happened.

"Merlin's beard," he muttered, climbing into bed, "Shut the hell up."

At last he closed his heavy eyelids and slowly drifted off to sleep.

Only to be woken up again by Hermione banging on his door.

"Scorpius! Get up!" She shouted. "I'm going in!" She unlocked the door with a spell and immediately backed out, covering her eyes.

"Get some clothes on you freak!" She said. Draco sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes. His robe had loosened while he slept, and had slid off, revealing his half-naked body.

"It's called a chest, Grant." He called, "and a well toned one too, I'll add. I thought you muggles like to stare at half naked people in magazines?"

"_I_ don't." Hermione retorted, still covering her eyes. "Just get some clothes on. We've got a cat to follow."

Grumbling, he dug around his bag and found a set of robes that were not that wet and fairly clean. He changed, dragged his hand through his messy hair and headed out into the corridor, where Hermione was waiting.

"What is it now?" He snapped, Draco was never in the best of moods after a nap.

"Someone disappeared- let's head down and investigate." They hurried downstairs, ignoring the lift, and gasping for breath, asked the startled receptionist what had happened.

"It's Adeline- this young woman- she disappeared. Her parents woke up to find her gone with a note saying that she went to the garden. But when her parents went there to find her, all they found was a set of footsteps that suddenly stopped, as if she was snatched out of nowhere."

Hermione listened to this intently, making mental notes. "Where does she live? How can I contact her parents?"

"Er- I can't give you her address, that's not mine to give. But Adeline's parents ought to still be at the garden."

"Where's the garden?"

"It's the only garden in this town, the one on Main Street, the rose garden."

"Thanks!" Hermione dragged the still sleepy Draco and headed towards the garden.

"So, what do you think?" She asked him, chewing on some bread she'd brought along.

"I think that we should just leave it. I think I should get some rest." Draco said, rubbing his sore arm.

"Be serious. This could be the work of that cat."

"You mean Felix? Yeah. A cat snatches human muggle girls and eats them. That makes sense."

"D-Scorpius…" Hermione growled warningly. "I'd like to hear your thoughts on this."

"Fine. What is the biggie? She must've apparated. Thus the sudden stopping of the foot prints. End of story."

"She's a muggle. She can't apparate. Besides, we're the only wizards and witches in town remember? The receptionist said, and she ought to know, she looks like the gossip of this town."

"You think this is the work of a muggle? That complicate things a bit doesn't it?"

"I guess we'd have to look at the scene to be sure."

They walked down the same path Hermione had wanted to go earlier that morning. The glass sheltering was now sprinkled with little droplets of rain. According to the weather report on television Hermione had watched before, it had turned sunny right after they'd walked into the hotel.

A whole crowd gathered around, murmuring fearfully among themselves. Several official looking people wearing uniforms that boasted of authority tried to keep them from wrecking the scene of crime.

Hermione and Draco neared, catching sight of the muddy footsteps on the concrete road. One glance at it told Draco that the shoes that caused them were female shoes- it was small and slender. The footsteps were rather widely spaced, and that was what struck him as odd.

They approached a couple, who they had straight away identified them as the parents of the missing girl. The mother was sobbing into her handkerchief while her husband stood stiffly beside her, his eyes cold and hard.

"Er- Adeline's parents, sorry to interrupt, but we'd like to ask some questions." The woman looked up, blinking tears. Her eyes travelled up and down the two of them, noticing the wands they brandished and their cloaks.

"This does not concern you," the man protectively stepped between them. "You wizards and witches must have better things to do than make fun of muggle disappearances."

"No sir," Hermione said earnestly, "We want to help. Scorpius and I have knowledge of magic, if this case concerns magic, then we'd be able to be of assistance."

"Like I said, shove-"

"-That would be very helpful. Thank you dears." The woman braved a smile and nodded to her husband. "Any help from any one would be great. Thank you."

"No problem. Er, just some questions, please. When was the last time you saw Adeline?" Hermione jumped right into it, while Draco had squatted down, studying the footprints.

"That'd be, around twelve last night, I guess. Before she went to bed."

"When did you find the note?"

"Er- 7 am this morning. We straight away went to the rose garden because this was so unlike her."

"Was the note in her own handwriting?"

"Yes. I'm sure it was."

Hermione frowned. Her parents would know what their daughter's handwriting looked like. She mentally crossed out the possibility of the girl being abducted at night. The girl must've had a meeting with someone, and something had gone horribly wrong.

Meanwhile, Draco noticed something strange about the rose buds that had been blown onto the path during the storm. It seemed to resemble something, like it was arranged carefully rather than scattered all over the place. He stood up and neared the pile, aware of the suspicious glares the Police shot him.

With a sudden recognition of the picture, he leapt back in shock. The rose buds had been carefully arranged. The petals and buds were fake; they were made of plastic and was held down by cellotape. It was like the arrangement was meant to be found. And like dogs on a leash, they had been led here, just like the master behind these sinister cases had guessed-no, foretold- they would.

The rose buds were in the shape of a cat's paw.

"Her-Hershey," Draco muttered in Hermione's ear. He pointed at the rosebuds. "Look."

Hermione squatted down, turned her head a bit, stepped back and gave a small horrified gasp and she realised what she was looking at. "Oh Merlin's beard," she breathed.

"Don't you think there's something wrong with this rose garden?" Draco asked, casting ominous looks around him and the people huddled on the thin concrete path. "Or more specifically, this path. I dunno, but something about this path just strikes me as odd... I think there's something wrong with these footsteps."

"They stopped mid-way, that's what's weird," Hermione replied, standing up.

"No...not just that. It's-hang on, I have to check out something." Draco walked to the parents.

"Adeline's parents? Yeah, er, how tall was Adeline?" He asked, slightly intimidated by the father's stern gaze.

The mother turned to her husband, twisting a lock of her hair with her index finger as she did. "About 158cm, I'd say. The last time we checked her height was last year, seeing as she's already in her twenties, she'd be around the same."

"Thanks."

Hermione listened this with interest. What had Draco noticed that she didn't?

"Hey, Hershey, how tall are you?" Draco asked. Hermione shrugged, "about 160cm, I guess."

"Do me a favour won't you? Walk beside the footprints."

Hermione did as she was told, still not getting what Draco was playing at. It was when she turned back and matched her own footprints to Adeline's when she realised what was wrong.

Her own footprints were closer to each other than Adeline's was, but that didn't make sense as Adeline was supposed to be shorter than her.

There was only one explanation.

These footprints were not Adeline's but someone trying to impersonate her.

* * *

Hermione chewed on her lip as she walked from the rose garden to Adeline's house, reviewing the strange things and clues Draco and her had found from the rose garden.

"Hey! Hershey!" Draco yelled from behind her. "Check this out!" He was running towards her, pointing rather frantically at the glass roof. Hermione had to squint at where he was pointing, as she was far away.

Draco caught up to her, panting. "The glass roof-it's an illusion, cast by a spell. I knew there was something wrong with it- the raindrops sprinkled on it was exactly spread out and arranged the same as we first saw it at 5 o'clock. I remember looking at a particular arrangement and was reminded of someone crying. I saw the same arrangement again in the exact same spot. What are the chances of the raindrops remaining in the same position after _two and a half _hours?"

"Practically zero." Hermione beamed. "You're getting really good at this. I had no idea you were that observant!"

Draco blushed. He wasn't used to compliments from her. "It's something I picked up when I was running aw- I mean, in school."

But Hermione had not noticed his blunder, she was already heading back to the rose garden.

Hermione threw a branch upwards through the glass roof. Draco was right. It was an illusion. The branch went through the glass as if it wasn't there-which, of course, it wasn't.

"Strange." Hermione muttered. Puzzle pieces were falling into place inside her head. She was beginning to form a picture of the whole suspicious case.

Hermione suddenly smiled. Draco recognised it as the predatory grin he had seen last time a mystery was afoot. He shivered involuntarily.

"I think we need to visit Adeline's house. That's where the puzzle pieces will be merge to form the entire picture." Hermione said- no, more like commanded. Draco was in no position to reject her idea, for one thing, the key to solving the puzzle of Adeline's disappearance seemed to be in her room, and the other reason?

Hermione was scary.

---

They followed the directions Adeline's parents had given to Hermione and stopped in front of a wooden gate. The small house- a cottage actually, was small but cosy. It modestly showed off its slightly bent chimney, four wooden paned windows and a short, rectangular wooden door in which its muddy green paint was peeling in desperate need of another coat.

Draco gave a small sniff beside her, showing his distain at such a run-down house. Hermione's eyes, however, were glazed in a dreamlike longing stare. She loved little cottages like these, it reminded her of muggle fairytales.

Hermione pushed the gate open, which gave a heart wrenching groan and bounded up the stone steps before pushing the door bell on the door.

The ring echoed throughout the house, but nobody came to answer the door. Draco pushed past Hermione and pushed the door open.

"Adeline is missing and her parents are at the garden. What's the point in pushing this bell?" He grumbled. It was Hermione's turn to sniff. The sight of the cottage had made her seem like a fool.

"I was being polite," she snapped indignantly. "Even if I know there's nobody home, it's manners to knock or ring the bell before going in."

"Of course," Draco retorted sarcastically, "You ring the bell then stand stupidly in front. What are you waiting for?"

Hermione scowled. "You're blocking my way. Get in quickly."

Draco shrugged and lead the way in. The entrance door opened to a narrow hallway in which (it seemed) that hundreds of photo frames were crammed onto the two walls. The hallway branched out into the living room on the left (which then lead into the kitchen), a staircase on the right and a bathroom further in, also to the right.

Without a word, Hermione gestured for them to head upstairs. For some reason, they were whispering and tip toeing around the house, though they had the permission of the owners to go in and have a look around.

The house, from what Draco and Hermione could see, was full of nothing but memories. Not an inch of the wallpaper could be seen, as all possible space on the walls had photos and paintings hanging onto it. The living room, from what they had seen at a glance, had three comfortable couches surrounding a table (and Hermione assumed, facing a tv which they didn't see). The table and the couches all had papers covering it, from mail to postcards to photos for the scrapbook they seemed to be making.

They gently made there way upstairs, still as quiet as two rogue mice hunting for some cheese. They reached the second landing and immediately recognised which room was Adeline's.

The room was small, like the house, but it seemed spacious. For one, Adeline seemed to have organised her things in labelled boxes and nothing was out of place. Even the pile of papers on her writing desk seemed to have a purpose in being there, and not one pen or rolled up paper was found on the spotless cream coloured carpet.

The note that Adeline wrote was still on her bed, as the police had told them earlier. Hermione gingerly picked it up and read it.

"Dear mum and dad,

Please forgive me for disappearing so suddenly. I've decided to take a fancy at the rose garden. Will be late coming back for our dinner.

Adeline."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "I've decided to take a fancy'?" He quoted, "who says that nowadays?"

Hermione shrugged, "the note seems pretty harmless, but I don't get why she added that she'll be late for dinner? Her parents saw her last night until twelve, so she would've have had dinner with them by then."

"Maybe she meant dinner today?" Draco asked, poking through the pile of paper on her desk and shuffling it.

"But why not lunch, or breakfast? Why dinner?"

"I don't know. Maybe they had a reservation at a restaurant tonight? And decided to disappear?"

Hermione sighed. "I doubt that very much. Did you find anything useful?"

Draco stepped back from the papers, dragging his hand through his blonde hair. "Nothing. Just papers and papers about getting admission into this university."

"University?" Hermione's ears perked up. "Which one?"

"Er, Culinary Arts Course." He answered.

"That's not a university, that's a _course."_

"Yeah, but it's a course in university. That you have to _do_ in university right?"

"Wrong. Courses can be done not just in universities."

"Fine. But in certified schools right?"

"I guess so."

Hermione took a closer look at one of the papers. "She's looking at scholarships."

"Duh, they aren't exactly rich. I mean, _look_ at the state of this house-no, shack!"

"That is very mean of you, I can't believed you called this homey lovely place a shack!"

Draco gave a smirk. "I guess you would defend this place. The weasels have a much smaller one and would have been greatly offended."

Hermione gave a huff, but decided to ignore his snide comments. A girl had disappeared, she had no time arguing with a snotty nosed, obnoxious boy.

She pulled open the door to Adeline's closet. Inside, everything was in organised accordingly to colour and type of clothing. Pairs of shoes stood neatly in pairs, wrapped up in plastic bags to prevent them from dirtying the rest of the contents.

"That's strange." Adeline's mother suddenly appeared beside her. "Her dress is missing. The one I bought her for Christmas."

"Dress? What does it look like?" Hermione asked.

"Black. It's a strapless dress made of silk. It's a lovely dress, I don't understand why it's disappeared."

"Why would she need it?"

"There's a formal dance coming up, it's a graduation dance. I thought to get her something fancy."

Fancy. That word again. Draco didn't know what was wrong, but that word pricked something in his mind.

"Did she have shoes to go with the dress? Jewellery? Assessories?"

"She had a pair of silver heels, and we were planning to get her some necklaces this afternoon."

Draco, after a meaningful glare from Hermione, looked into the closet. "I don't see her shoes."

Hermione suddenly smiled again. "I think I know what happened. But I need to check something out first. Do you mind if I go through your daughter's drawers?"

Adeline's mother shook her head. "If that helps. Go on."

Hermione opened the first drawer in the desk, sorted through it and triumphantly produced an envelope bearing the same mark as the 'university' Draco had seen on the papers before.

She eagerly opened the letter. It was a rejection letter stating that she did not get scholarship.

"Does Adeline have a job?"

"No. She told me she wanted to rest for a year before pursuing a career."

Draco suddenly clicked. His eyes met Hermione's.

They knew where Adeline was at.

* * *

**HERMIONE'S NOTES:**

-Rained from 5am to 7am

-from 5am to 5.15am, Hermione and Draco were near the rose garden, they didn't see anyone.

-Parents discovered note at 7am and went to rose garden right away. The distance from their house to the garden is short and takes only five minutes to reach it.

-Glass on the roof of the path in the garden is an illusion.

-Footsteps are made from Adeline's shoes, but the footsteps are far apart compared to Hermione's.

-Adeline wanted to go and do a Culinary Arts Course. But had no money for tuition and scholarship was denied.

- Fancy dress and shoes missing. The note's wording seems strange.

* * *

**Can you solve the mystery and answer where Adeline is?** _I've given a lot of clues. Anyway, bottom line is- PLEASE review._

Thanks


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter ten**

"Harringtons." They said together.

Adeline's mother was baffled. "Harringtons? Why would she go to the hotel?"

Hermione shrugged. "I'm not sure. But I think this is what happened:

Adeline was desperate of money. She wanted to do the Culinary Arts Course, but she had no money for the tuition and she did not get a scholarship. I think someone offered her money to pay for the course, and told her to meet them at the restaurant at Harringtons. But something went wrong for Adeline, she probably thought she could get the money and leave. But whoever wanted to meet her kidnapped her instead. They forced her to write a note, they dropped it off on her bed, then they planted those footsteps in the rose garden, so the attention would be drawn to the garden instead of at the five star hotel."

"How do you know that?" Adeline's mother was wringing her hands in worry. Her face was pale and patchy, beads of sweat dripped from her forehead as she imagined what state her daughter was in right now.

"Well, the rain started from around five in the morning to seven. Scorpius and I were at the Rose Garden (or near it anyway) from about five to five fifteen. We did not see anyone then. You and your husband came at seven. The culprit must have planted the footsteps between five fifteen and seven. But get this: the roof was an illusion. The glass had been broken and taken away a long time ago, yet the footsteps remained. The rain should have washed those footsteps away, but it didn't."

"How-?"

"-Magic, of course," Draco butted in. "If someone cast an illusion spell on the roof, what's to say they didn't use magic to plant those footsteps? To preserve them?"

"Scorpius is right. But they didn't realise their mistake. Though they took Adeline's shoes and planted the footsteps, it didn't match up. Adeline is shorter than me, or about the same. Her stride should be around the same as mine as well, but the footsteps at the garden were placed far away from each other. There are two possibilities, either it was a tall woman, or-"

"-A man." Draco finished. "I'm betting it's a man. A wizard, who walked down the path wearing Adeline's shoes then disapparated half way to wherever Adeline is."

"Right again. The footsteps were preserved and were carefully arranged to stop mid way to create the illusion that Adeline had been there and some strange thing happened to cause her to disappear. People are very gullible. They will start whispering about stories of ghosts, of some weird mystical thing that had happened and would be afraid to conduct the investigation any further."

"Ghosts, hah!" Draco muttered, "They can't do anything except make you feel cold when you walk through them stu-."

"Anyway," Hermione continued pointedly, "The note they forced Adeline to write was also to throw us off their scent. But Adeline was too clever for them, she had written a secret message along with the message they wanted her to convey. Her use of the word fancy, the emphasis on the word and the meaning she chose that word was to hint that she was someplace fancy-Harringtons. Then she mentioned about being late for dinner, that's pretty strange for someone who disappeared after dinner last night. The message she wanted to convey was-"

"-Restaurant. She was at a fancy restaurant that people go there normally for dinner. Only place that meets those two? The restaurant in Harringtons." Draco said. He was enjoying the look on Hermione's face every time he stole the limelight from her and explained what happened in place of her. It was fun, why hadn't he done this in school? Oh, wait. He didn't know half the answers back then.

"There was also other clues. The rejection letter about the scholarship pointed that she needed money, the fact that her mail was stored safely in her drawer instead of downstairs where the rest of the mail was that she didn't want to borrow money from you. She wanted to do this course with her own ability. But she was desperate, the course she wants to do starts in less than one year, even if she worked all year, every day and night, she wouldn't have been able to get enough money to fund her for one year. Somebody caught wind of this, invited her to Harringtons."

"Then the dress and the shoes…"

"Precisely. Harringtons is a five star hotel. Its restaurant would only permit people who were dressed suitably in. She would have needed that dress and shoes to be able to meet whoever she was meeting. I think she may be still at Harringtons."

"But what do they want from kidnapping my daughter? Surely not money, what? And Why?"

Hermione gritted her teeth. She had a feeling the kidnapping had to do with Felix, and that this whole kidnapping was just and Act from a play, where the ending was that both of them were lead one by one into the lair of whoever was behind this. Kidnapping Adeline and killing Paul was nothing but a rouse to get them interested and to follow Felix deep into the unknown.

Hermione loathed the mysterious figure behind all of this. This person was obviously a ruthless and poisonous person who would do anything and stop at nothing to bait his prey and drag them out of the waters, their comfort zone to kill them.

She swallowed, a lump was forming in her throat. She didn't know the purpose in bringing Draco and her together, as well as leaving obvious 'trademarks' behind, but she'll definitely catch Felix in the act next time.

Nobody was going to get hurt next time, Hermione promised.

* * *

Police cars drew up around the hotel, surrounding it.

Adeline was safely escorted outside, she looked tired and terrified, but she seemed to be fine other than that. The kidnappers had locked her inside the cellar where the wine was kept, telling her that if she behaved and did as she was told, they would let her home. But they didn't. They had run off and threw the key away in a nearby garbage bin.

The police could not identify the culprits from the key, as they had wiped their prints off. Adeline had been subjected to a memory charm and did not remember their faces, nor their figures or the clothes they wore.

But she did remember something.

"They asked me, at the restaurant, if Tibby was alright," she murmured, shivering in a blanket that her father had wrapped her in.

"Tibby?" Hermione looked questioningly at Adeline's father.

"Her rabbit. It ran away several days ago." He was warming up to Hermione after she had found his daughter, but he was still wary of Draco, who kept raising an eyebrow at the state of the house.

"Not just Tibby," Adeline whispered, "Francis's dog, Harry's cat… everybody's pet went missing six days ago."

"They asked you about your pet?" Hermione bit on her lip, her fists clenched so tight, her knuckles were white.

"Yes. When I said that Tibby ran away, they laughed. They said, 'Your Tibby's up north. You'll never see him again.' I remember that, and only that."

"North? Did they say where?" Hermione was persistent. Felix couldn't have gone far, she was determined to catch up before they committed yet another crime.

"No. Just, north. That's all I remember." Adeline's eyelids fluttered and she leaned against her father, fast asleep.

Draco nodded to Adeline, whispering to Hermione. "So what do you think? Should we go up North?"

"Of course." Hermione answered. "North is where we're headed. We're going to the next town, muggle or wizarding that's north."

"It's not a town," Draco said, studying his map. Both of them had their backpacks with them along with more food and necessities with them. They also were rewarded cash for finding Adeline from the townspeople.

"Then a city then? What is it?"

"It's… a castle, belonging to the descendants of this rich count. The castle and the land surrounding it is strictly private. But that's directly north from here, and the closest place where people are living."

"Then that's where we're going." Hermione said simply. "The people there are rich, which makes them all the more perfect as targets for Felix."

"But you don't understand," Draco said hoarsely. "These people are rich and noble. They don't allow strangers on their land. There is no road that will leads us there. We'll be rejected once we come to the first set of gates."

Hermione turned to look at him, her eyes glittering. She pointed at an advertisement in the newspaper that a cop was reading.

"Oh no." Draco breathed.

"Yes. We're going undercover as servants."

* * *

Hermione and Draco stood outside the iron wrought gates, feeling tiny and insignificant. "Is this bigger than Malfoy Manor?" Hermione asked.

Draco didn't answer. But Hermione knew.

"Look smart," Hermione said, then she took a deep breath and pressed the button.

A face appeared on the screen in front of them. It was a stern lady's face, and her eyes were looking suspiciously at them. "Kelvey's Residence. State your business." The woman said.

"Er- we're here for the advertisement. I am Hershey Grant and this is Scorpius Moni." Hermione introduced. "We wish to become the Kelvey's maid and gardener."

The gates opened. "Stick to the path." The woman instructed, and then the screen went blank.

They tightened their grip on their backpacks and walked down the path. It was a nice narrow path that wounded its way around the humongous trees. Hermione could see a building looming through the gaps in the branches.

They reached a house that was definitely not the castle, but it was still pretty big. It was a handsome mansion. One that rivalled Malfoy Manor. Draco was about to knock on the door, but the same stern lady they had seen before had beat him to it.

"Come in and take your shoes off." The woman ordered. "Place your shoes neatly in that cupboard and give me your backpacks. The head of the servants will be conducting your interviews. Look neat and speak up clearly, he wants short but precise answers, so don't go wasting your time trying to flatter him. To clarify matters, my name is Hestia Plummeth, but call me Hestia please."

Hermione gulped and did as she was told. They were led into the mansion where they passed many, many rooms and a staircase before the lady gestured for them to go inside.

They entered a room that seemed uncharacteristically small in comparison to the rest of the rooms nearby. It was furnished much like an office, with a wooden desk, several sofas and also a few computers humming on a bench that lined a wall. The room had large windows that showed a magnificent view of the outside. There was no carpet, but a few ornate rugs were laid down, giving the room an overall comfy but business like feel.

A man was waiting. He stood up as he saw them entering the room. Giving them both curt nods, he gestured for them to sit across him on the sofas. A ring of the bell and a maid came in, carrying three tea cups and a pot of tea. She placed the tray down and poured tea into the each cup before retreating with the tray with a small curtsey.

"My name is Hermes Reginald," the man introduced himself. "I am the butler of the Kelvey's household. Everything must be consulted with me before anything else happens, naturally interviewing candidates for positions falls upon me. As I'm sure you're eager to conduct the interview, so I'll not waste your time."

"Hershey Grant- you wish to be a maid?" The man spoke with a deep no-nonsense voice.

"Yes," Hermione answered, remembering the woman's warning to answer in short, direct responses.

"Do you have any previous experience?"

"Not in such a big household." Hermione said.

"So you have been a maid before?"

Draco's ears perked up, this was interesting, Hermione Granger had worked as a maid before?

"No." She replied. "I have not."

Darn. Draco settled back into the cushions, back to studying his teacup.

"Then do you have the skills and qualities a good maid should have?" The man surveyed her closely, watching Hermione as she remained calm and collected, thinking carefully about how she should answer.

"I believe I do possess many valuable skills and qualities a good maid should have," Hermione said slowly, "I am patient, enthusiastic, polite, organised and precise. I know how to cook and clean fairly well. However, I am aware that I am not perfect and that I still have many things to learn. I hope that by becoming a maid in the Kelvey's household, I will learn many more lessons and skills."

The man nodded. "I see," he said.

He did not say whether she was accepted or not.

Mr. Reginald now turned to Draco, who hastily placed the teacup back onto its saucer, trying to look professional.

"You wish to take upon the position as a gardener?"

Draco nodded, "yes." He too, remembered Hestia's advice.

"Have you any previous experience?"

"I have not been a gardener before," Draco answered, "but I have experience in keeping gardens tidy and designing as well as maintaining gardens."

Hermione stared at him. Was he really serious?

Draco gave her a sneaky look and blinked. Of course he hadn't. He was bluffing.

Hermione pursed her lips, she hoped Hermes Reginald did not notice he was lying.

"What makes you think you will be a great asset to the Kelvey Household?" Mr. Reginald asked.

Draco gulped. "Er, I believe I will bring a nice and better change to the gardens of the Kelvey Castle." He said, saying to first thing that popped into his mind. Beside him, Hermione winced; she thought Hermes looked like a man who disliked change.

Fortunately, she was wrong. Hermes beamed suddenly. "Excellent! These gardens are in desperate need of change. Please wait here-I'll go and get your uniforms." He rose from the chair.

"Er-Mr. Reginald?" Hermione asked tentatively.

"Hermes, please." He interrupted her.

"Yes, er, Hermes, does that mean that Scorpius and I are accepted?"

Hermes blinked at her. "Yes. Of course, did I not say?"

Hermione shook her head and Hermes left the room. She wondered why this rich household had to advertise positions in a town's newspaper. Surely they would have just contacted an agency and got the best of the best?

* * *

Hermione walked out of the room, wearing a simple black blouse, black skirt that hung around her calves and a small white apron. She looked like a typical maid.

Draco was already dressed. He was wearing earth-green overalls and a simple white collar shirt underneath. He was carrying both of their bags.

"Should we tell them?" He asked, "that we're a wizard and a witch?"

"No. I don't think that's a good idea until we get to know them better," Hermione whispered back. "They might chase us out and we won't be able to find Felix's trail."

Hermes neared them, with Hestia right behind him. She was holding two thick booklets.

"We want you to read these before Hestia shows you your roles and jobs," Hermes explained. "The Kelvey's are people who like their servants well informed of who is who in the family. It eliminates confusion and it makes life easier for you, knowing what you should do or not to do."

He handed out the booklets to them and led them into a large room lined with shelves of books.

"This is Athena's library," Hermes introduced. "She doesn't mind people coming in here, as long as they don't ruin the books and make a mess. She's the daughter of Zephyr Kelvey, head of the house. You have until lunch to finish reading. Lunch is served at twelve thirty on the dot in the servant's kitchen. That's located on your map that's in the booklet-until then, you will be pretty much alone unless Athena or one of her siblings come in here."

Before he left them standing in the large room though, he poked his head around the doorway. "Another thing is to never call the Family mistress or master. Always call them by their first name."

Hermione and Draco chorused an "Okay," before sighing and sitting down at different desks.

Hermione flipped open the book and started to read.

* * *

Zephyr Kelvey was the head of the house. His younger brothers were Hades and Poseidon. His only female sibling that was actually related to him by blood was Demeter. His other female 'sibling' was also his wife, Hera. She was not related to him by blood; Zephyr's father had brought her in and raised her to be his son's fiancé.

Hades and Poseidon did not live at the Kelvey's Castle, but they were frequent visitors. They had their own rooms and their own gardens, it seemed they visited every other month for about two weeks.

Zephyr and Hera had many children. Athena, Apollo, Artemis, Ares and Hephaestus.

Hephaestus was the eldest, he was disabled due to an car accident some years earlier. He was married to Aphrodite. But it appears that their marriage was failing, because the two no longer shared a room.

Ares was the second eldest. He was an important figure in the military, he had won many contests in martial arts and was one of the top students to graduate from military school. However, due to his status as a noble, he was not allowed to join the army and instead acted as a mentor to promising military students.

Athena was a private tutor, so she occasionally housed some children and they learned in the Kelvey's household.

Apollo and Artemis were twins, the two were still teenagers, but Apollo was already studying a course in medicine, aspiring to become a doctor. He was rarely home, due to his studies. Artemis wished to become a vegetarian, but as her academic results were average, she was being tutored privately until she reached the age and stage where she could go out and attend a university.

* * *

All this information and more were crammed into their heads as much as possible. When twelve thirty rolled around, Draco was desperate to breathe in some fresh air, whereas Hermione was still rather reluctant to close the booklet and go to lunch.

They followed the map and saw that the household had at least a hundred servants. The name 'kitchen', to Hermione, was an understatement. The size of the kitchen and the serving room combined were about as big as Hogwart's Great Hall was. Even Draco's mouth fell open at the sight, strongly reminded of their school days.

"Newbies, are you?" A girl asked them rather rudely. Draco immediately bristled at her tone.

"Yeah, we are," He shot back, "What are you, an oldie?"

The girl grinned, "Geez, chill out, won't you? Just testing to see if you were another softy who wouldn't stand a chance in this hectic world."

"So did we pass?" Hermione asked, not even looking at the girl. She was gazing across the room, trying to find Hestia.

"Not yet," the girl said mysteriously. "But if you do pass the ultimate test, unlike the rest of us, you'll be favoured among the family and granted lots of good things."

"I see," Hermione murmured, paying no attention at all. Draco, however, was listening closely, especially when the girl mentioned the part where he could be given things.

"What's the ultimate test?" He asked, leaning forward.

"If you're able to solve the mystery of Zephyr's library," she whispered, "then he'll grant you all your wishes-within reason, of course."

Hermione stopped. "Mystery?" She asked, suddenly curious. "What mystery?"

"Can't tell you, I'm afraid," the girl said cheerfully. "But you'll know when you go in there. Ciao."

The whole thing sounded suspicious to both of them, so they didn't ask Hestia about the mystery.

After lunch, Hestia lead them on a tour around the areas they'll be working in. When she showed Hermione the library, Zephyr's library, Hermione immediately sensed something was out of place.

The library was smaller than Athena's surprisingly. It was a warm, bright room that housed many shelves of books and many comfortable sofas and chairs and tables for people to use. The carpet was a maroon colour, and the walls had orange wall paper. Overall it felt nice and cosy.

The windows were the problem, Hermione saw. It was really beautiful, with stained glass and all, but the pictures that were stained on the glass was the mystery that she had to solve.

The windows each bore a similar but different picture. From order from Left to Right, Hermione saw stained pictures of a lightning bolt, trident and a three-headed dog (like Fluffy). There was a small inscription in Greek underneath the window, which Hermione could not decipher.

"That," Hestia said, "is the mystery the Kelvey's family have trying to be solve ever since Zephyr's grandfather ordered those stain windows. The inscription underneath can loosely be translated to: 'Seek and you shall Find'. The answer was blatantly obvious to outsiders like us, but it seems the family is determined to solve it by themselves, without outside help. Nearly a hundred of the servants have solved it successfully already, but Zephyr absolutely refuses to listen to their answers."

"But some girl told us that the family will grant us things if we solved the mystery in the library," Draco said, eyeing the windows with distain.

"She wasn't lying," Hestia answered. "She was referring to the other mystery. Every person who has managed to solve this mystery, and found the answer, was cursed to seven days of bad luck. People's things were stolen, things fell on them, one was hurt so bad, they were sent to hospital. So far, though, neither of them died from it."

Hermione tried to memorise the pictures and vowed to come back to the mystery later. She didn't believe in superstitious nonsense like that. Maybe a wizard or a witch was at work here. She wasn't sure.

She was determined to find out though.


	11. Chapter 11

**Please read and review!!!

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Chapter eleven

Hermione spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning rooms, scrubbing the wooden floorboards, dragging the ancient vacuum cleaner across the carpet, stripping beds of its clothes, dumping the linen into the obsolete washing machine (which broke down and Hermione was forced to watch the linen by hand), sorting through the rubbish and helped Aphrodite prepare for her bath.

A simple flick of her wand would have completed all these tasks within moments, but Hestia was constantly hovering about, and Hermione daren't to use magic; she wasn't sure the Kelvey Household knew about the wizarding community, they were so closed off to the rest of the world, including muggles.

As Hermione massaged her aching arms and legs, taking a break and sitting on a sturdy chair in the servant's dining room, her thoughts drifted back to the mystery, or mysteries, actually.

She already knew one thing, and that was that she had to solve the mystery of the stained windows before she could solve the real mystery. Hestia had already hinted that the mystery was obvious except to the Kelvey's. Perhaps the mystery was about the family members, and it was something that outsiders took notice of, but what the family missed. Maybe it was like how a relative who had not seen you for some time exclaims how different you look, how old and tall you seem, but your own parents, who saw you on daily basis, would not notice the difference.

Also, the Kelvey's first names... Zephyr didn't match up, but the rest of them- Hades, Aphrodite, Artemis... all of their names were derived from famous Greek Gods and Goddesses, Hermione didn't really know much about them, after all, these divine creatures were just from myths, not actual (according to her anyway) beings that existed in reality, so she never paid any attention to their stories.

Her break would be over in less than two minutes, and then she'll have to resume to her maid's tasks. There were over fifty maids in this household, and yet there was still so much to do. Hermione, being the new maid, had to do heavy manual labour, the older, more experienced maids were often attached to one family member only and did tasks a secretary would.

Her next task was to go to Athena's library, where she would take down all the books, open the heavy velvet curtains to let the sunlight in, and flip open each and every book so that the pages wouldn't turn mouldy and damp. Then she had to dust the shelves, clean the chandeliers, wipe the windows, polish the brass doorknobs and carefully remove grime from the statues. And when all that was done, when the sun was setting, she had to restack and re-organise all the books, replace them onto the shelves, clean the tables and the chairs, take down the heavy curtains, put up the newly washed ones, close the curtains, and lastly vacuum the floor.

Her shoulders slumped as she thought about it. The only optimistic thought about cleaning the library was that she could research her only clue from the mystery there. She was sure that Athena, being such a scholar and a teacher and all, would surely have books on Greek Mythology. If she didn't, Hermione would have to be forced to either asking around (which she disliked because it brought attention upon her) or wait until the upcoming Sunday, her only day free, where she could leave the castle and go to the nearest city to use the internet in the public libraries.

The alarm on her watch beeped frantically, reminding her that her break was over. She sighed and got up, stretching, aware that Hestia was somewhere near, assessing the new maid. The older woman had already warned her that she would be under close supervision; it was a security precaution, she was told, and also whether Hermione was worthy to be a maid in the household. If Hermione seemed shifty, or slacked off, she would immediately be escorted off the grounds by the Kelvey's personal (but elite) police force-all handpicked by Ares from his Military Academy.

Hermione glanced outside, out towards the gardens, which were sectioned and divided among the family members. From the map in her booklet, the huge garden was rather rectangular shaped, and each family member had their own private garden, with tall hedges as boundaries. Each section was a large square of the rectangle, and in the centre of all these private gardens stood a shining fountain in the shape of a mountain, with waterfalls of water cascading down into the small marble pond below.

A flash of blonde dashed by, and Hermione saw Draco running frantically, yelling out something to someone behind him, pointing furiously in front of him as he sprinted away. Curious, Hermione walked up to the window and saw Draco chasing after a small German Sheppard puppy, who was bounding mischievously along the pebbled path, something clamped between its jaws.

Hermione gave a small laugh and pushed her cleaning trolley out of the dining room. She hoped that the dog won and kept its prize-whatever it was.

* * *

Draco had spent his afternoon kicking piles of leaves, then raking them together again, trying to look busy. When he knew that this routine wasn't going to fool Hermes, who was always within view in the corner of his eyes, he squatted down and tore up what he thought was weeds, but was actually some kind of herb.

It was obvious he was no gardener, Hermes chuckled to himself, but for some strange reason this boy had a sort of charisma that made Hermes want to let him stay. The boy was lazy, a poor gardener, and even selfish and mean, but there was something about him that attracted the kind attention of others. The head gardener had pulled Draco aside, but instead of telling him off for pulling and killing the herbs, he gave Draco an easy task, and that was to walk Demeter's and Hera's dogs.

Draco had puffed his chest out importantly, released the dogs from their play pen (that was as large as Draco's room in Malfoy Manor, he thought sourly) and had both of them trotting nicely beside him within moments.

It was when some stupid cook threw the dogs a single piece of leftover steak when the trouble began. The two dogs immediately rushed towards the steak, snarling and barking at each other as to who the meat belonged to, totally oblivious that Draco had tripped in their haste.

The cook, realising her mistake, got a saucepan and headed back outside, scaring the dogs away from her, she then tore the steak into halves and gave one each to the still bickering dogs. Draco thought that it was the end of this problem, but he never noticed that his wand had fallen out of his pocket. One of the dogs did though, Hera's puppy, after nearly swallowing the piece of steak whole, the puppy snatched up the wand, right in front of Draco's stunned face, and bounded away. Draco, in his bewildered frozen state, had unwittingly let go of both of the dog's leashes.

The German Sheppard puppy, prize in his drooling mouth, dashed away into Hephaestus's garden while the other dog, the Golden Retriever (cross Labrador) ran in the opposite direction into Artemis's garden. Draco, unsure of what to do, hollered for help. He backed away as Hermes and the other gardeners came running towards him and bumped into the fountain, managing to smirk and stutter at the same time, as they demanded answers to why Draco was alone without the dogs.

They split up into three groups. Draco and three other gardeners were to go after the German Sheppard, who had left Hephaestus's garden and wandered deeper into the garden, heading towards Poseidon's garden that was at the far end in the centre.

The other group was to catch the Golden Retriever (now heading towards Hera's garden which was closes to the buildings, in the centre) and the remaining and third group was to go and get some help from the police force.

The puppy with the wand, eyes gleaming and sneaking looks back at the advancing group from time to time, decided rather smartly, to not enter Poseidon's garden and instead go around the corner, hiding from their view by sitting behind the fountain, the marble pond's shadow shielded its body from view and the water sounds drowning out its panting.

Draco and his group entered Poseidon's garden, unaware that the puppy was looking at them from behind the fountain. If dogs could giggle, then this dog would have been rolling on its back, laughing and clutching its ribs at the stupidity and naivety of humans.

When the humans finally caught sight of the cheeky dog peering out from the pond's shadow, they gave a loud shout and the chase continued. They ran around and around the large space around the fountain, neither of them entering the private gardens. Clockwise they went, from Poseidon's to Apollo's, then they rounded the corner, went past Hade's, Hephaestus's, Ares's, Demeter's, Hera's, Aphrodite's, Artemis's, Zephyr's, Athena's and then to Poseidon's again. This cycle continued for quite some time before Draco realised that the humans should split up and corner the dog into one of the private gardens.

The puppy ran right into one of the men from the Police Force, where the squirming, drooling puppy was firmly arrested, the wand (which the muggles thought was just a regular stick) had been forced from its mouth and thrown to the ground, covered with dog spit, bits of grass and mud. Draco wrinkled his nose and his face scrunched up in disgust as he bent down and picked it up, wiping the wand on his overalls and sticking in back into his pocket.

The puppy and the other dog were soon reunited and the two were punished by being locked inside their play pen. The Police Force joked that if someone wanted to pay the bail and let them out again, they were free to do so. Draco wasn't amused.

He was allowed to shower and get the mud and dirt from his clothes and body off. On his way to the servant's dormitories (that were just as fancy as the ones in Hogwarts, imagine) he caught sight of Hermione dragging the heavy curtains of a library open, he was about to rap on the glass and smirk at her tired face, but then thought better of it. Hermione had a wand-and was probably frustrated enough to use it against him.

If his father and his friends from Slytherin saw him cowering away from a Gryffindor mudblood, they would have laughed. Since when did Draco Malfoy, the school bully, the smartest one out of the trio (consisting of him, Goyle and Crabbe) and probably the smartest out of his close circle of friends, was scared of Hermione Granger?

He didn't like that idea as well, but travelling with Hermione, seeing her chase after a kidnapper and murderer with fierce determination, seeing her drag out the culprits and accurately deduce information from a whole swab of data, watching her seethe in anger, and knowing that she'd do anything to get her hands on Felix and stop him, even if it went being a maid, he would be lying if he denied that he was scared of her. Her determination, along with her fiery temper and need to boss people around was at its maximum, and quite frankly, he didn't want to be the recipient of whatever curses Hermione fired.

* * *

The sun was setting when Hermione finally finished cleaning the library. A glance at the grandfather clock standing in the far corner told her that she still had twenty two minutes until dinner. That meant that she had twenty two minutes to successfully locate the books that she needed and extract helpful information.

It was easy knowing which row, which shelf to head towards, Hermione herself had shelved the books back into their positions. The problem was, when she was shelving, there were no books that she'd found might be helpful. The mythology/fairytale section was in the 398s, that she knew.

"Why can't books just be named "This is a book about Greek Gods and Goddess'?"  
Hermione grumbled as she stood precariously on a stool, squinting in the fading light. She didn't want to turn on the chandelier lights-call her paranoid or whatever you liked, she was sure that an earthquake would strike and the lights would start a fire.

Speaking of which... Hermione ran her index finger across the spines of the books in front of her, still thinking, ever since the wizard village, she hadn't seen, heard, or even experienced a disaster. She hoped that it wasn't the silence before the storm, hopefully whoever was behind all these disasters was getting bored and had diverted their attention- like making the earth free of pollution or something nice like that.

She snorted at that thought, _that'd be the day I dye my hair blonde_, she grinned, despite herself.

The books she saw in the section had everything except Greek Gods and Goddesses. There was folktales from India, Nordic and Roman Mythology, books about fairies and witches (though none were accurate) and even a book about monsters. Another look at the clock reminded her that she had to hurry up; she had less than fifteen minutes now.

Frustrated, she picked the first five books out from their positions and set them down on the tables. Perhaps some of the Greek mythology was included in other subjects. It was a long stretch, but she was determined to take every chance.

She flipped open a lot of books, sometimes she headed straight to the index pages, sometimes she skimmed through it, searching for any hidden bits of paper clamped in between. It wasn't until she had less than two minutes until dinner did she realise that the books she had seen before had contained the answers.

She grabbed the thick volume containing the Roman mythology. Although she didn't know much about mythology, she knew enough that some (or rather, most) of the Greek gods and their stories were the same as the Roman ones. It was just the matter of their names being changed.

Her watched beeped, signalling for her to replace the book and go to dinner. She hesitated for a minute, her arm aching as she was about to shelve the book back, her arm in mid-air. There were so many books in this library; surely this one book wouldn't be missed?

The library door was firmly closed, so Hermione knew that Hestia wouldn't know if she borrowed this book. But stealing this book (even if she was planning to return it) was against Hermione's conscience, on the other hand though, she needed it to figure out the mystery- no, the mysteries, plural.

It was a fair debate, so which side did she want to take? It was one minute past the start of dinnertime, she had to get there quick or else she'll miss out on seats.

Then the answer came to her, so suddenly. It was simple, as to what she had to do. She whipped out her wand and created a duplicate of the book. She had been around muggles for so long that she forgot she was a witch, this would never have happened with Harry and Ron beside her (she forgot about the episode with the Devil's Snare).

Leaving the original safely between two equally heavy volumes, Hermione shrunk the book and tucked it in the pocket of her skirt, where her wand followed the book.

* * *

Draco quickly showered then rushed out, his hair sopping wet, following fellow gardeners down the corridor and outside towards the main building and into the dining room. He had been warned beforehand that to get enough food and a decent place to sit, he had to be quick.

A quick glance around the dining room told him that Hermione was sitting beside Hestia, it appeared that she didn't even bother to save him a seat. Hermione was too busy talking and laughing with her newfound friends, the girl who'd told them about the mystery and boy that seemed roughly the same age as them sat across Hermione, all listening to what she had to say.

Draco didn't mind her making friends, what he cared was that now he had nowhere to sit. Because of his shower he arrived to dinner fifteen minutes after dinner started, so now he and his new friends (if you could call them that, Draco thought) were forced to stand outside on the veranda and eat their steak with their hands, because it was impossible to cut it up with one hand (the other was holding the plate).

He wasn't used to hard work, but strangely enough he had become accustomed to the hectic and chaotic (if not problematic-he remembered the dog) Kelvey household. It had been less than a day since they arrived, anxious as to whether they could pull it off, but he was used to all of this. In fact, he even liked it. This was a muggle place, and he was kept under close supervision and made to do work, but he still liked it.

He wondered if he'd been born a muggle would he still want to be a wizard? More importantly, would he still be the same person as he would now? Would he love his parents? Would he live a normal life?

His mind flashed back to the last time he'd seen his parents. He still remembered it vividly, the starved, hungry looks on their faces, looking at him in worry and desperation as he ran away. The whispered encouragement from them, though he did not hear it, he could see them mouthing the words. There had been only one chance, one little chink in the armour, and without hesitation, his parents had pushed him forward. They had chosen him to live, to survive, to escape. They had no thought about themselves but thought only of their son.

They sacrificed all they ever wanted, their freedom, their sanity and even their health to save him.

He will not forget that. He will keep his promise. Harold Yolkhurt's message from him must have already arrived at the ministry, and that horrible man, far more terrible than Tom Riddle Jr, must have been arrested and exterminated by now.

At least, that's what he hoped.

* * *

Late at night Hermione crawled under her covers, but she did not sleep. She got out her torch and flicked it on, the covers were pulled over her head, and she sat up, clutching the precious book tightly in her hands.

Her dinner-mates, Claire and Max had told her all they knew about Greek and Roman mythology. None of them knew much, but it was enough for Hermione to know who was who in the Roman mythology book she made a copy of.

Claire had been the most useful, her knowledge of mythology was limited, but she had done Classical Studies in high school, and had retained most of what she learned. She was the one that told Hermione that Zeus was Jupiter, Hera was Juno and so forth. Hermione got the feeling that Claire knew exactly why Hermione was asking those questions.

Max helped her by supplying bits and pieces, he told her about Heracles (though she knew about him already) and about Romulus and Remus (Lupin's first name! Hermione had thought.) He was a rather attractive boy, with wavy blonde hair and dreamy blue grey eyes, but he had the tendency to get distracted easily. He would talk about one thing, and suddenly exclaim out something totally irrelevant and forget what his original subject was.

She smiled at that, in a why Max reminded her of her cousin, a boy who didn't have many worries, who was carefree but still reliable and responsible when the time came for it.

She flipped open the book and started to read.

By the end of the Gods and Goddess introduction page, and a quick glance in her booklet she had solved the mystery- the mystery of the stained glass. Now she had to bait the culprits out and hope that it was Felix and she could catch him.


End file.
